Harmless Fun
by Baker-Street-Potter-Head
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have been casually sleeping together for a couple of months. But that's all it is, right? xx
1. Simple Starts

_Hello everyone. Ok, this is intended as a one-shot…but if you wish me to write more, then I shall do so. xx For now, however, please enjoy ;) xx_

* * *

"Molly, I am bored…there have been no interesting cases for weeks…"

Molly looked up from her desk to see Sherlock staring at her with a raised eyebrow and suggestive smirk. Molly swallowed as he leaned against her desk, his eyes meeting hers.

"I would, Sherlock…but I have reports and-"

"I ensured John remained at the flat especially."

Molly breathed out in anticipation as she noticed his desperation, his fluffy looking hair, deep blue eyes and inviting lips, and had only one thought. **Fuck it. ** She smirked and Sherlock practically ran towards the doors, turning the lock and shedding his coat. When he turned around, Molly had pulled her hair free and was sitting on her desk. She bit her lip and gestured towards him. Sherlock smirked as he rushed forwards, stopping just in front of her and crushing his lips to hers.

It had started almost two months ago, when Sherlock had just finished a rather tedious case and Molly had clocked off for the night. It was a completely spur of the moment decision. Sherlock had been spinning on her desk stool in utter boredom and Molly had been standing in front of the detective clearing away her reports. The next thing they knew, the reports had been thrown onto the floor, abandoned, and Molly had been placed on her desk. He had ripped the lab coat from her body and she had run her hands over his chest, pulling his shirt away. To say they had sex against her desk then would have been an understatement. After several moments of 'hunt the items of clothing', they realised they had found something neither wished to lose. Thus, the 'boredom banging' was born. Whenever one didn't have any work to do they would seek out the other and attempt to distract them. It always worked of course.

Molly collapsed against Sherlock's heaving chest, both sweat-soaked and gathering their breath. Sherlock traced his hand up and down her back, humming in satisfaction.

"Hmm…you, this…it keeps me from going mad…"

Molly chuckled and placed a kiss to his lips, raking her nails softly across his chest.

"You're welcome, baby…"

Sherlock grumbled; he hadn't particularly warmed to Molly's pet name of him. He seemed to tolerate it when it tumbled from Molly's lips during their passionate trysts, though. The door handle rattled suddenly and Molly moved to stand, only to find herself held in place by Sherlock. She raised her eyebrows and he pressed a finger to his lips. John's voice sounded from outside of the morgue.

"Molly? I know you're in there…Mike said you haven't left yet…"

Molly moved her lips to Sherlock's neck; knowing how much he likes this, it was half an attempt to make him gasp and the other to stop herself from laughing. Soon, John gave up and decided to return to the flat. Sherlock lowered his voice and whispered in Molly's ear.

"He's gone…you could do those reports now, if you wish…"

Molly frowned and pushed at his chest as Sherlock shifted away from her. She soon rolled over and straddled him, causing him to groan. Molly bit her lip and traced her fingers along his cheekbones.

"I don't think so…not when there's something _else _on the floor far more delicious I'd much rather be doing…"

Sherlock rolled his eyes but pulled her down against him and gave a wide smile. They stayed there for the rest of the day; they had been forced to be quiet at one stage when Mike tapped at the door. This was an incredibly testing time for both Sherlock and Molly as both were determined to make the other scream for more.

* * *

Molly sat up straight in bed with a huge grin on her face. It was her day off and she was certainly displaying the Sherlock Holmes withdrawal symptoms. She reached for her phone and tapped in a quick text, her heartbeat speeding up slightly.

_It is my day off today. Mollyx_

_Busy. Case came in…elderly woman murdered in her own home. No witnesses. SH_

Molly frowned; she was damned if that was the final word. She tapped in her reply with a devilish smirk on her face.

_Fine. I'll just stand here then…naked and soaking wet while the shower runs cold, shall I? Mollyx_

It was several moments before Molly received a reply.

_…it was her son. I'll be two minutes. SH_

Molly jumped when the buzzer to her flat sounded five minutes later. She shook herself and ran to answer the door, smoothing her nightdress down. Sherlock shook his head and tutted, moving inside with his hands clasped behind his back.

"You lied to me."

"You're late."

Sherlock nodded and failed to hide his smirk. He stretched out his hand and closed the door, not removing his gaze from Molly's. He tilted his head to the side and spoke in a breathless whisper.

"Well…let's settle the score then, shall we?"

Molly nodded as Sherlock dropped his coat carelessly to the floor, stepping forwards. Molly, teasingly and enticingly slowly, moved away from him towards the bathroom. Sherlock followed with a starved expression in his eyes. Molly reached for the bottom of her nightdress, an unmistakeable look in her eyes. Sherlock licked his lips with a slight growl as Molly reached the bathroom. Impatience soon took over Sherlock he had reached for the nightdress himself and tugged it over her head. He seemed pleased with himself until Molly threw her arms around herself, covering her chest with a wink. Sherlock shook his head and pushed her into the shower and Molly raised her eyebrows.

"This seems a little bit unfair…I think I should restore the balance…"

Sherlock shrugged and followed her inside, and Molly wasted no time in removing his shirt and setting her lips upon his body. Sherlock shivered and swallowed as Molly's nails clawed at his back. She huffed in irritation as his hands still braced the walls of the shower instead of roaming her body. Molly began scraping her teeth across his hard muscles, her hands now in his hair. Sherlock hummed and pursed his lips tight together, intent on resisting. Molly frowned and stepped away suddenly and Sherlock snapped his eyes open. Molly blinked up at the shower and gave a small shrug.

"The water's not on…"

Sherlock stepped forwards, closing the gap between them. He smirked as he spoke, his voice husky.

"Oh…who cares?"

Molly giggled as Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to the floor of the shower, gasping as the cold tile touched their skin.

* * *

Sherlock sighed; he was in yet another bored state. He glanced around the flat and realised, with hidden delight, that he was alone. John had a date that evening and had already left. This was the perfect opportunity to show Molly his newly acquired item. He licked his lips and reached for his phone, ignoring how his heart skipped several beats. **No…none of that. It's sex. Just the sex. Back-breaking, naughty and raunchy sex but still. That's all it's ever been and all it will remain. **Sherlock took a deep breath and tapped the message into his phone hurriedly.

_It is 10:00pm. John has a date. The flat is empty. I believe this is what is known as a 'booty call'. SH_

_Hmmm…I've got those reports to finish. You understand. Mollyx_

Sherlock frowned, tapping the phone against his leg in irritation. **John was right. Payback is a bitch. **Inspiration struck him and he tapped on his phone again.

_I have something to show you…SH_

_You always have something to show me. Mollyx_

_Molly…SH_

_Fine. Give me a moment, will you? Mollyx_

Molly had reached 221B in under 30 minutes and by the time Sherlock opened the door to flat B allowing her access, Molly could tell he was incredibly frustrated. Molly giggled as Sherlock kneeled in front of her, caressing her stocking covered legs. He looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"For me? You shouldn't have…"

Molly shrugged and pulled his hair roughly, earning her that animalistic sound she loved so much. He responded by pushing her against the wall and lifting up her skirt to fully appreciate her. Molly moaned loudly as Sherlock dragged his tongue across the fabric. She managed to breathe out the question she wanted to ask.

"Well…what did you want to show me?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he met her eyes with a smirk and Molly rolled her eyes, also smirking. Sherlock stood up suddenly and pulled her towards his bedroom and opened the door, shoving her inside. Molly looked around and placed her hands on her hips.

"It still looks the same to me…same wardrobe, same desk, same dressers…"

Sherlock nodded and approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. Molly smiled and stroked along his strong arms, Sherlock's voice assaulting her eardrums.

"Yes…and we've shagged on and against each…except this…"

He moved her towards his bed and Molly turned around and smirked, biting her lips together. Sherlock swallowed as he saw her in the light. Her makeup was subtle and perfect, her dress clung to her in the most flattering way, the flowers on it suited her personality completely, her stockings lengthened her long legs and her hair…was loose. Sherlock's favourite way. It was her smile, though, that made Sherlock's heart flutter. He shook his head. **Stop it…it. Is. Just. Sex. **He shoved Molly again and she tumbled onto the bed, laughing as the 'mattress' wobbled and moved beneath her.

"Really, Sherlock? A waterbed?"

Sherlock nodded and climbed over her, staring into her eyes. He swallowed and his voice was deep.

"Molly…I just want you to know, this means everything to me. Without you, I couldn't have even hoped to have survived these last few caseless months. The fact that you are very _very _good at this makes it all the more satisfactory…"

Molly smirked and nodded, disappointment filling her. **Come on, you knew it was just sex all along. That's why you agreed, right? No strings attached…nothing to worry you. Just enjoy the sensation of Sherlock Holmes screwing you into his new bed! **Molly pulled his head down to her still covered breasts and Sherlock's hands reached for her zip.

"It means the world to me, too, Sherlock…" Molly gasped as his cold hands worked their way over her back, "…and you are also very very good at this…my workless days have now become much more pleasant…"

Sherlock nodded against her now free skin, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. Her hands were working around his body, teasing him as she reached for his belt. The bed moved with them, jutting up and down with the joined bodies and proving to be excellent for their pleasure. Afterwards, Sherlock collapsed at Molly's side and lazily stretched his hand to the side, resting it across her stomach. Molly was already snoring softly but her hand sleepily landed on his. Sherlock noticed, with a naughty smirk, that Molly had left her stockings on. **Oh, my bad girl.**

* * *

John knocked on Sherlock's bedroom door, awaiting an answer. When one didn't come he turned the handle and raised his eyebrows at the sight. Sherlock was fully dressed and was in his mind-palace pose, the bed wobbling him from side to  
side. The detective turned towards his friend.

"What time is it?"

"Five past ten, AM, Sherlock…I've just got back. Mary's wonderful…she's so funny and-"

"That's nice, John. I am happy for you."

John nodded in confusion and frowned slightly as he closed the door. He rubbed his head and blinked rapidly. **He's high…he's got to be high. Either that or a case just got interesting. **Inside his bedroom, Sherlock threw himself back against the bed and smirked as his bed moved with him. **I had, of course, been right. Last night was completely worth buying this stupid thing for. Molly was lovely, completely breath-taking. I wonder when she learned to do that- oh dear. **Sherlock opened his eyes as he realised why Molly was always on his mind.

* * *

"No…that…that cannot be right…"

Molly shook her head and paced her bathroom, throwing the offending item into the bin with the others. She took the fifth and final one from her bag and held her breath, silently praying to herself. After waiting the appropriate amount of time, she approached her bathroom sink. She swore violently when it displayed the same result and she threw the test against the wall, before collapsing against her toilet and sobbing softly. After what seemed like hours, she lifted her throbbing head and stood up, walking to her mirror. She swallowed and placed her trembling hands on top of her stomach, a smile involuntarily creeping onto her face. **This is…so not good at all.**

* * *

_SO…this was intended as a one-shot and will remain so…UNLESS you good people would like me to continue. If the powers that be command it…then I must obey ;p xx Thank you so much for reading…I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned, back soon? xx_


	2. Who's Daddy?

_Hello again, everyone. Oh my god, thank you all SO much for reading this…I still can't believe I got all of your lovely reviews, I was literally jumping for joy when I read them, lol ;) I am SO glad you like it cause there is sure plenty more to come :D xx Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Here's #2… xx_

* * *

**_THREE WEEKS AGO_**

Molly blew her hair out of her face as she leaned against the bench. She had been stood there for so long waiting for results that her ponytail was starting to come loose. Molly's reports sat completed on the opposite bench as she waited, tapping her foot impatiently. She rolled her shoulders as she looked at the clock, releasing a bored sigh. **11:00pm…only one hour to go. **She was examining the many shelves in the room when the doors were pushed silently open; it would have gone unnoticed if Molly didn't hear the locks click as the doors closed. She smirked to herself but didn't look away from the shelves. She heard Sherlock clear his throat by the door and turned to face him slowly, noticing he was also smirking and rocking on his feet with his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was a deep rumble in his throat, seductive and low…and just for her.

"Do you have those results yet?"

Molly licked her lips and folded her arms, staring into his eyes. Oh, those eyes. Molly swallowed before shaking her head. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"These things take time, I'm afraid. They might not be ready…tonight…"

Sherlock nodded as he approached her slowly. Molly held her breath, annoyance quickly filling her when Sherlock occupied the stool next to her. Molly fiddled with her hands and glanced around the room, desperately looking for something to do. Sherlock watched her with an amused expression before standing up and moving to stand directly in front of her. Their eyes met and Sherlock bit his lip, a smirk ready to break free.

"No reports to finish, Doctor Hooper?"

Molly narrowed her eyes before chewing her lip subconsciously. Sherlock suddenly felt very warm indeed. Molly's voice was breathy as she looked up at him.

"No…I completed them whilst waiting. No cases, then?"

Sherlock chuckled softly and gave a slight shake of his head. Molly was growing incredibly flustered.

"Nothing, until these results are ready, at least. I have my suspicions, naturally, but I would like to ensure I am correct."

"So…we've both got nothing to do."

They just stood there for a moment, each desperate for the other to make the first move, avoiding the other's gaze and trying to breathe naturally. Unable to take it any longer, Sherlock leaned forwards and placed his hands either side of Molly, trapping her where she was – not that she was going anywhere. Molly immediately started to run her hands up and down his muscled arms. Sherlock's eyes were almost completely black as Molly spoke breathlessly.

"What are you thinking?"

Sherlock furrowed his brow slightly and smirked widely, causing Molly to shiver. He moved to her ear and whispered softly, moving his hands slowly to her hips and under her jumper.

"I am not sure why…but I want to bite you…mark you as mine and only mine."

Molly shuddered as Sherlock removed his hands from under her jumper and slid them up her back. He reached her shoulders and pushed the lab coat away. Molly copied his actions with his jacket, leaving him in his lovely purple shirt. Sherlock grazed his teeth from her ear, down her jawline and over her chin, reaching the pulse on her neck and placing a soft gentle kiss there. Molly was surprised at how good that had felt. Sherlock smirked as Molly's hands entwined in his hair, pushing him closer to her body. He retraced his previous actions with his tongue and Molly whimpered softly. Sherlock's hands were soon under her jumper again, smoothing up and down her sides. They were moving incredibly slowly, much different to their usual movements. Molly swallowed as Sherlock pulled away from her neck to look at her. **This is…different. **Sherlock glanced down as his hands settled themselves at the bottom of her jumper, lifting slowly and tossing it aside. Molly pulled her hair free and shook her head, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. Sherlock shook his head and looked at the floor, speaking softly.

"Molly…"

Molly took his hands silently and pulled him close to her, until they were inches apart. Molly leaned on her tiptoes and placed a quick, gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. This was all it took before Sherlock crashed his lips against her passionately, pushing her backwards against the bench; he would have lifted her onto it if there weren't so many breakables and possibly harmful toxins. He had hardly realised that his shirt had been removed and was crumpled with the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Molly was running her hands across his chest as well as setting her lips upon him, making sure to sigh as loudly as possible as she did so. Sherlock gently tugged at her hair, letting it slide through his fingers. Molly found a particularly sensitive spot and soon Sherlock was removing the remaining clothes in their way. Molly clutched at the back of his neck as he buried himself in her skin, panting frantically. Even though they were sure the sound of the stool repeatedly hitting the bench could be heard down the corridor, their only focus was the other's pleasure as they moved to their partner's preference. Sherlock set his hands everywhere he could reach and Molly's delightful moan filled his ears. Although choruses of 'yeses', 'oh gods' and 'baby' filled the corridors, they wouldn't yet realise they were missing one very important thing…

* * *

**_PRESENT DAY_**

Sherlock scowled; he was, once again, struck with the most irritating condition of boredom. This wouldn't be a problem, if John hadn't insisted on staying in the flat to update his blog. Sherlock had even drunk the last of the milk so he would have an excuse for John to go to the shops. John, however, had decided that there was no point and that Sherlock would just have to wait. Every few minutes, the detective released a dramatic sigh hoping that John would get fed up; he seemed too engrossed in his typing to care, though. Sherlock's frustration – not to mention, want and greed – forced him to reach for his phone and type in a message.

_I am not working a case at the moment…and even if I was, I'd still want you over here. SH_

Sherlock shook his head and deleted his message before taking a deep breath.

_It is that time again. I crave you. I cannot get enough, Doctor Hooper. SH_

Smirking in satisfaction, he sent the message and awaited her reply. His phone buzzed and he stared at the message in confusion.

_Sorry, Sherlock. I'm busy. Mollyx_

Sherlock huffed as he tapped angrily into his phone.

_Yes, but I am not and I want sex. With you. SH_

There came no reply after this and Sherlock threw his phone violently against the wall. John looked up from his typing, startled and noticed Sherlock had already disappeared into his bedroom. John rolled his eyes and retrieved the phone; being top of the range, it had simply bounced off of the wall. John glanced towards his flatmate's bedroom, shrugging as he decided to see what had got him so annoyed.

* * *

Molly paced the flat nervously, glancing towards her phone every now and again. No…I cannot see him yet. Yet? I cannot ever see him again! He'll find me though…oh, what do I say? I could lie. Molly shook her head and stopped in the middle of the room. Oh yeah, and what happens in nine months? Besides, he'll figure it out sooner or later. Oh…he's going to be so upset. Molly glanced down and breathed deeply, feeling rather conflicted; sometimes she wanted to jump up and down, screaming with joy and other times she felt like curling into a ball and weeping. Right now, though, she was running to the bathroom, feeling the early stages of pregnancy rushing through her body. The buzzer sounded as Molly got to her feet, shaking violently and hurried to the door. She took a deep breath and frowned when her friend, Mary Morstan stood at the door.

"Hello Mary, this isn't a good time…"

Mary raised her eyebrows and shook her head, taking in her friend's appearance. Molly's hair was damp and messy, her eyes red and puffy, like she'd been crying and how she was still in her pyjamas. Mary swallowed and placed her hands in her hips, her classic concerned pose.

"I can see that."

Molly shook her head firmly and approached her friend.

"No…it's ok. I'm fine…there is something I need your advice with though..."

Mary nodded but placed her hands on her friend's shoulders, guiding her inside and sitting her at the sofa. Molly took a deep breath but Mary beat her to it.

"Is this about your boyfriend-that's-not-a-boyfriend?"

Shocked, Molly nodded and Mary sighed, collapsing next to her friend. Mary didn't know that Molly was sleeping with her boyfriend's flatmate and she intended to keep it that way…but she had to tell her. Mary narrowed her eyes and blinked rapidly.

"What's he done?"

Molly bit her lip and looked down at her shaky hands before muttering under her breath.

"I'm...sort of, well, a little bit…pregnant…"

Molly winced as she glanced towards Mary who was wearing a completely shocked expression. Molly swallowed as Mary jumped to her feet.

"What? Ok…now you have to tell me who he is…so I can kick the sh-"

"It's not like that. It was an accident. As much my fault as…" Molly shook her head before glancing up at Mary, "he doesn't know...and I don't plan on telling him."

Mary tilted her head to the side and walked over to Molly's drinks cabinet, grabbing any old thing and downing a glass. Mary whirled to face her friend, her voice faltering slightly.

"Are you…keeping it?"

Molly nodded slowly and Mary blinked in utter confusion before downing another glass of what she believed to be wine. She sat next to her friend and threw her arm across her shoulder protectively.

"Well then…you have to tell him, he's going to be Daddy, after all!"

Molly nodded slowly, biting her lip and snuggling into her friend, trying to think of something to do.

* * *

John had nearly fainted in shock when he had seen Sherlock's last sent text_. _He swallowed as he approached the door to Sherlock's bedroom.

"Sherlock…I think we need to talk."

"No."

John sighed in frustration and pushed the bedroom door open. He found Sherlock lying on his back, staring at the ceiling as the bed moved beneath him. John cleared his throat but Sherlock didn't move. Instead, he spoke through gritted teeth.

"You saw my last sent text…"

John bit his lip but nodded moving to stand over his friend, concern on his face.

"Sherlock…are you seeing a…prostitute?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat up, narrowing his eyes at his friend. **Clever. I never thought about that.**

"You believe the only way someone will have sex with me is if I pay them to."

It wasn't a question but John found himself shaking his head and rubbing his neck awkwardly as Sherlock waved a dismissive hand.

"I have had to find other means of keeping my boredom at bay. I have been for the past few months. The thing is I have somehow managed to piss this particular person off."

John blinked and looked around the room, lost for words. He looked down at Sherlock's waiting expression, silently asking for help. John shrugged, completely confused. **Just find another girl.**

"It depends on what you did. You could always pay her more-"

"No. This is an arrangement. I am unsure of what I am supposed to have done."

John's mouth fell open and he perched himself on the edge of Sherlock's bed, blinking rapidly as Sherlock clasped his hands together. **Ok, so what…Sherlock's been sleeping with a prostitute…for fun? This man is a complete surprise. **John shook his head and patted Sherlock on the shoulder.

"Well…just find another girl."

Sherlock sighed as John turned towards the door.

"I cannot."

Sherlock frowned as he reached for his phone; John had left it on the bed next to him.** I cannot believe what I am about to do. But it is necessary.**

_I am sorry. I do not know what I have done, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to get you to forgive me. Please, Molly, please sleep with me. SH_

He couldn't believe how pathetic he sounded but he was already going out of his mind. **Molly Hooper has me begging for sex. There is something I never anticipated. **He shook his head and closed his eyes, deep in thought.

* * *

John had started to pace the flat, trying to figure out who Sherlock's hooker could be. He barely had any time to gather his thoughts, though, as the buzzer to the flat sounded. He heard Mrs. Hudson answer cheerfully and show whoever it was inside. Soon, John was beaming as Mary stood at the door, kissing him on the cheek as he welcomed her inside. Molly tiptoed quietly inside after her friend, nervously wringing her hands.

"Would you like a drink?"

Mary licked her lips and sat herself on the sofa, glancing around. Molly perched herself carefully on the sofa as though she were made of glass. Mary's voice called softly to John.

"I'd love a glass of wine if you've got it…"

John winked and turned expectantly towards Molly, who was swallowing urgently.

"Um…water, please."

John nodded and hurried into the kitchen. Mary nodded supportively at Molly, who shook her head with a small smile. Molly settled herself against the cushions and Mary shot her a nervous glance and lowering her voice.

"Hey, you ok?"

Molly nodded quickly as John's voice called from the kitchen, friendly and kind as always.

"Hey, do you want any snacks? Mary, Molly?"

The words had barely left John's lips when Sherlock's bedroom door was wrenched open and the detective shot into the room. Mary raised her eyebrows and John bustled in with the drinks, the snacks forgotten. Molly met his eyes but his smirk she couldn't match. She smiled nervously and shifted so he had enough room to sit down.

"Sherlock…"

"Molly."

John frowned, shrugging as he handed Mary her drink. Mary, however, was watching the pair like a hawk. She had heard about the great Sherlock Holmes' people skills, alright. John moved to sit in his chair and raised his glass to Mary, who giggled softly. Sherlock furrowed his brow at how Molly seemed to be moving as though she was made of glass, sipping her drink at the very edge and placing it down with extreme care. It was Mary's shrill voice that forced his gaze from his lover.

"Hey, maybe you boys could help me! Molly has this 'secret lover', right, and she's not telling…"

John and Molly choked on their drinks as Sherlock shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, John found his gaze settling on his flatmate as he fidgeted in his seat. Molly searched for something to say as she desperately avoided Sherlock's gaze.

"Um…well, actually…he's…not very good with people…he doesn't want anyone to know…"

Sherlock bit his lip tightly as Mary scoffed loudly.

"Oh yeah…but you don't mind telling me all about him do you…about how…how he's the best you've ever had…how he- oh, what was it…oh, yeah…how he sets your world on fire. For god's sake, you tell me _every time _how fucking _good _he is! How…how he's ruined men for you…jesus, the detail you go into when you've had a few."

Molly had closed her eyes tightly. **Wine goes straight through her. Immediately. **John was glaring at his impossible girlfriend as she drained her glass. Sherlock, however, had leaned back and was currently wearing the smuggest look John had ever seen on anyone. John raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening in realisation; Sherlock's smirk, Molly's traumatised expression and the text. **No. That can't be. **Sherlock cleared his throat and leaned forwards, his smirk growing.

"I shouldn't worry, Mary. He is clearly getting as much out of it as well…" John rubbed his temple as Mary nodded in agreement. Sherlock breathed out and continued "…and Molly. This _is _an interesting turn of events. I am sure, _whoever _this man may be…he feels the exact same way. I am almost certain he has never experienced pleasure like the way he has with you. I would stake everything to say he would say _you _are so good…and I would be willing to bet _you _do much more than set his world on fire," Sherlock lowered his voice to a mutter as he breathed out, "…you certainly set his bedroom on fire."

John shook his head rapidly. **No…no…no. Absolutely not. No. **Mary placed her glass onto the coffee table, making as much noise as she could. Her anger was rising again and Molly was silently praying, still staring at the floor.

"God…how I wish I knew who he was…I'd kill him…"

Sherlock frowned and Molly was sure she was going to make her lips bleed. Sherlock leaned forwards to address Mary directly, his voice panicked for reasons he could not explain.

"Why?"

Mary frowned and clenched her hands into tight fists. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, glancing at Molly's deathly still frame.

"He thinks he can just get my best friend pregnant and abandon her? I don't think so…"

John dropped his glass in shock, rendered completely speechless as Mary continued to flex her hands. Molly's eyes widened as she jumped to her feet. She was going to yell at a confused Mary right there…but instead she turned and rushed out of the flat without looking back, tears filling her eyes. Sherlock, however, appeared to be frozen to the spot. Mary rose angrily to her feet as she finally realised why Molly had ran out of the room. She and John failed to see the small smile that the detective had gained only seconds ago…

* * *

_Hmmm…not sure that's the way you'd like to find out, eh? Lol ;) Thank you so much for encouraging me to write more for this story, I really love all of your kind reviews and thank you again to everyone :) xx If you want more, you'll get more :D Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	3. A Consulting Parent

_Hello again, guys. I am just loving all of your comments (and the fact that you're all reading it! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH :') Much love to you guys, right now! Here's #3… xx_

* * *

Sherlock didn't move as Mary yelled at him, not even paying attention to her words. His mind was spinning, working to its maximum. He didn't flinch when she struck him across the cheek, threatening to do worse if he ever went near Molly again. He didn't even blink when Mary stormed out, John following her hurriedly. Sherlock was in disbelief; he hadn't anticipated this but here it was. **Hmmm…I suppose it makes sense we conceived our child in Bart's lab. **When John returned, panting heavily from chasing his girlfriend down Baker Street, Sherlock was at the window and playing his violin. John's mind was blank as he watched his friend play a soft, delicate tune, completely unlike anything he had ever heard him play before. John was unsure how the detective was going to react to this news but had a feeling it wasn't going to be smooth. John cleared his throat and Sherlock paused, still facing the window. John hated how he couldn't see him, see his reaction but nevertheless, if he could help he would. He also hated how his voice shook.

"Er…h-how are you doing?"

Sherlock gave a small shrug as he placed his violin carefully onto the chair, avoiding John's gaze. His voice was calm and steady when he spoke, his eyes staring aimlessly out of the window.

"It is not every day you discover impending parenthood."

John nodded and settled himself onto the sofa silently; he was seriously starting to worry for Sherlock's mental state as he watched him apparently debating whether or not to move from where he was standing.

"What are you…going to do?"

Sherlock turned to face John, his expression unreadable. Sherlock sighed deeply as he turned away again.

"Nothing."

John raised his eyebrows and his mouth dropped to the floor. **What?**

"Nothing? You can't-"

"I do not know…how to be a father, John. It is better this way…"

John sighed deeply and folded his arms; he had never seen this side to Sherlock before and, since he didn't have any children of his own, it was very difficult to find some supportive words.

"No one does…until it actually happens."

John could almost hear Sherlock's eyes rolling and he shook his head, carefully approaching Sherlock. He placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"It's better, is it? What happens years down the line, Sherlock? Will it be better when you see Molly, in the street…holding onto the arm of a little boy…or girl and you just do 'nothing'? Will it be better when the little one asks Mummy where Daddy is? Can you just walk away from it all? Molly will move on as well…you're little baby will call some other man Daddy, Sherlock…"

Sherlock swallowed, feeling uncomfortable as John shook his head, walking away from his friend. Sherlock was thinking…and he hated how John was right. **That would be…impossible. I do not want that at all. Molly and I…raising a child? I would be lying if I said it didn't sound appealing. **Sherlock's voice sounded strangled when he spoke next.

"I do like Grace…and Scarlett. Ridiculous as it is…"

John stopped at the kitchen and whirled around. The detective was still facing the window and his hands were behind his back. John soon found himself smiling softly and breathing out.

"They're beautiful…bit screwed if it's a boy, though."

Sherlock nodded once with a small chuckle before turning to face John, realisation and excitement in his expression. John's smile was genuine, also. **At last…**

"John…I want this child. _My _child."

John gave an understanding nod as Sherlock rushed into his bedroom to get ready. He had some serious talking to do.

* * *

"I told you not to tell anyone, Mary!"

Molly was absolutely livid as she turned to her frantic friend. Mary had run into the flat after her, collapsing against the door and breathing heavy from running. Mary shrugged, massaging her hand and Molly swallowed collapsing onto the sofa.

"You hit him? Why?"

Mary raised her eyebrows, completely shocked and threw her arms into the air. **Is she serious? **She stepped away from the door, angrily looking at Molly as if she was mad.

"For god's sake, he got you pregnant and-"

"HE DIDN'T KNOW! I told you that…he didn't know…"

Molly was fuming; her fists were clenched and she had jumped to her feet. **I'm supposed to be watching my blood pressure here. **Molly sat back down, stroking her stomach and trying to control her breathing. Mary frowned and shook her head. **What does that matter? He still did it. **Mary looked at her friend worriedly.

"I don't care…you're like my little sister, Molly. I want to protect you." Mary ignored Molly's snort and glanced down at the floor, "…anyway, I told him if he ever came near you again, I'd do much worse than bruise his pretty little face."

Molly clutched her hair in utter rage as she jumped to her feet yet again.

"You have no right…you cannot do that…I need him…Sherlock…I can't do this on my own!"

Mary swallowed as Molly sunk to the floor, cradling her stomach and sobbing uncontrollably. **She really loves him. It's such a shame her feelings will never be returned. Why can't she see that? **Mary knelt opposite her best friend and spoke in a soft whisper.

"You're not alone, Molly. I'm here…I've always been here for you. Besides, you weren't going to tell him." Mary frowned when Molly continued to sob and ignore her. Her voice was shrill when she spoke again, "…anyway, how was I supposed to know you were doing my boyfriend's flatmate?"

Molly shook her head and buried her face in her hands, her words muffled. Mary had to really strain her ears to listen.

"Yeah, but he's never…never going to sp-speak to me again…I've lost the only…only thing that made sense...it may not to you…but i-it worked for us…"

Mary bit her lip and calmed herself, wrapping her arm around her friend. Molly relaxed into her and her sobs soon subsided. She looked up at Mary and swallowed, before moving away and shaking her head slowly. **She has to understand. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone…but she needs to know.**

"It was Sherlock's decision…he initiated it…"

Mary raised her eyebrows in shock as Molly smirked at the recollection. Mary was no stranger to Molly's stories but now this 'secret lover' had a name, it made her very uncomfortable. However, Molly wanted to talk and Mary knew better than to interrupt.

"It was late. He was bored. I had finished for the day. When I turned around to face him, I saw his eyes. They were perfect…_are _perfect and I melted, as always. He was just watching me and then…well, you know. So tell me…if he didn't care for me…why would he do that?"

Mary didn't want to think about it but Molly smiled as she remembered Sherlock standing up and placing a small kiss to her cheek. Molly looked at the floor as she saw Sherlock pulling away and kissing her other cheek, lingering slightly longer than the last time. Molly blushed as she recalled Sherlock resisting no more and snogging her senseless as she pressed herself into his body, running her hands through his soft curls. Molly realised her breathing had calmed and she was steady. **Just thinking about him makes everything better. **Mary cleared her throat, bringing Molly from her thoughts, and mumbled to her lap.

"I'm sorry…that was out of order. I know I shouldn't have said anything…I was just so angry…but Sherlock Holmes, Molly! You've been nailing Sherlock _bloody _Holmes for TWO months in secret…now that is impressive…"

Molly couldn't help but smile and shake her head as Mary giggled to herself. **That's Mary, see the bright side to any situation…not to mention the sexual. **A knock at the door sounded a moment later and Mary frowned jumping to her feet, ignoring Molly's protests.

"Who is it?"

"Who do you think? Now, let me in Mary. My business is with Molly and Molly alone."

Molly's heart fluttered as Sherlock's deep, desperate sounding voice echoed through the door. Mary practically shouted back at the detective, her words moments ago drifting away as her protectiveness dominated her entirely.

"Go away! Molly doesn't want your rejection right now, thank you…and I thought I told you never to come near here ever again."

Molly could almost hear Sherlock's eyes rolling as he hammered the door. She was frozen. **Maybe Mary has a point. There's no way Sherlock is going to be OK with this.**

"Oh, come on, Mary. There is nothing remotely threatening about you, whatsoever. Now, if you don't mind I'd like to speak to the mother of my child."

Molly bit her lip as Mary looked stung. Mary drew herself up to her fullest height and retaliated sharply.

"As long as I am here, you are not seeing Molly!"

Sherlock huffed in frustration on the other side of the door and Molly had risen to her feet and was now pacing her flat. **Oh, what do I do? We certainly need to talk. **Molly took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice to Mary.

"We need to talk, Mary. Whether you like it or not…Sherlock is very much a part of my life now."

Mary shrugged angrily and bit her lip. **He better have a damn good reason to prove this means something to him.**

"Fine, but I am staying right here."

Molly shook her head and moved towards the door. Mary moved over to the sofa and sat down stubbornly. Molly lost her temper with her friend and span to face her.

"Look, you've already ruined the moment he found out…now you're not even going to let me put it right? Please, Mary…just go away!"

Mary's expression changed from anger to hurt within seconds. She rose to her feet and stomped towards the door, yelling as she did.

"Fine. You want to be alone in this? That's up to you because Sherlock Holmes sure isn't going to stick around…"

Mary wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind her, but not before kicking something into the flat that had been left by the door. Molly folded her arms in a huff and quickly ran to the door, pulling it open.

"Sherlock? Are you there? Sherlock? Please…"

When no answer came, Molly released a sad sigh and closed her door gently behind her. She had been about to collapse against her door and burst into tears but she noticed the small, elegant paper bag that had stopped at her coffee table. She moved over to her sofa at sat down, carefully opening the bag. She gasped in delighted shock as she peered inside, happy tears trailing down her cheeks. She gently removed the delicate fabrics contained inside, excitement filling her completely. Molly held up the items and giggled between her sobs; there, in her hands, were two tiny and adorable personalised babygros. She placed them across her lap and held up the first to examine; a soft, pink one decorated in little hearts with a fancy, white print across the middle. Molly squinted through her tears as she read it: _50% Mummy. 50% Daddy. 100% Genius. _Molly held it close for a moment, feeling the beautiful fabric between her fingers and beaming. She carefully placed it on the sofa next to her as she examined the second; this was blue and adorned with tiny skulls. Molly rolled her eyes. **Of course. They are perfect, completely perfect. **This, too, had writing in the middle but this was black and bolder than the first: _Daddy put me inside for nine months…and Mummy got me out for life. _Molly chuckled when she read the words, smiling at their sentiment. **I better not show this one to my mother. **She gazed fondly at them for a moment until the bag, which had been perched on her knee, slid onto the floor and Molly noticed a piece of paper fall out. Frowning slightly, Molly picked it up and read it carefully, her heart fluttering as she did so.

_Molly,_

_I want you to know, I am fine with our sudden change in relationship. I hope this shows you how serious I am._

_Sherlock Holmes_

_P.S I do not think it wise to leave you door unlocked. Anyone could walk in_

Molly's large grin was replaced with a frown of confusion at the last sentence, unaware her door had creaked open slightly and a figure had moved silently into her flat, smirking broadly with his hands clasped behind his back.

* * *

_Oh, I hope you liked that one. A little apology to anyone who found the second babygro insulting or distasteful, it's my sense of humour (plus it kinda applies to them, lol :) Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think and, of course, whether you'd like me to continue ;) xx Thanks again, you are the best :') Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	4. You Said What?

_Hello again, everyone. I am so glad you are liking this story and as long as you like it, I'll keep writing ;) xx Thank you all so much for reading, I really appreciate. Here's #4… xx_

* * *

There were a few moments of silence; Sherlock just watched as Molly re-read the letter before slowly lifting her heavy head, smiling widely. Sherlock barely had time to return her smile for Molly had jumped to her feet and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Sherlock held her tightly – well, held _them _tightly. After what felt like ages, Molly released him and beamed brightly.

"They're beautiful…wherever did you get them?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. He seemed incredibly pleased with himself when he spoke.

"Get them? My dear, you cannot 'buy' items like that…"

Molly furrowed her brow and swallowed sharply, suddenly very overwhelmed.

"But…that must have cost a fortune…"

Sherlock shrugged and Molly hugged him tightly again, stroking her hands through his hair. Sherlock sighed as he buried his face in her neck, making Molly giggle.

"I liked your text, earlier. I wasn't mad at you…I didn't know how to tell you. I was scared…I guess that doesn't matter now. I am so sorry…"

Sherlock lifted his head and caught her eyes and bit his lip, taking her hands. **It's too late now. What's done is done. Although…**

"I would have much preferred you telling me. If you don't mind…"

Molly swallowed and narrowed her eyes when she noticed Sherlock's expectant expression. Even though it was silly, Molly looked at the floor, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. **It's going to feel…weird telling him something he already knows.** Sherlock, however, chuckled as he watched her.

"We have had sex in Bart's morgue, almost getting discovered by my flatmate and your boss…and you become embarrassed when you have to tell me something I already know?"

Molly shook her head softly. **He's right. It's mad. Completely mad. **She bit her lip and Sherlock sighed impatiently, a smirk on his face. Molly smiled at the look of pure excitement in Sherlock's expression. It was as if he had been handed three seemingly impossible cases all at once.

"Come on, Mummy. Daddy wants to hear it from you…please."

Molly smiled deliriously and caressed her stomach gently, all the while being watched by Sherlock. Sherlock bit his smile back as Molly took a deep breath. She took his hands and placed them carefully onto her stomach, looking into his eyes.

"Sherlock…I'm pregnant. You're going to be a Daddy, _Daddy_."

Sherlock couldn't help it; **damned emotions**. He dropped his gaze to his hands and softly smoothed the fabric covering her still flat stomach. Normally, he would have hated how large his grin had become or how his eyes were watering. In this circumstance, however, he loved it. He wanted her to know how he felt, how he was there for her; she was the only one he didn't care about showing this side to him. Molly was wiping happy tears away from her cheeks and she glanced towards Sherlock.

"Are you…crying?"

Sherlock blinked repeatedly and looked up at a beaming Molly. He frowned and pouted, his hands not moving from their position.

"Of course not."

Molly rolled her eyes and tilted his chin towards her and leaned up to capture his lips. Sherlock responded tenderly and his hands moved to her hips. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. Molly's breathy voice filled his ears as he caressed her sides softly.

"What now?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he bent low, pulling her shirt over her stomach. Molly bit her lip as Sherlock placed a gentle kiss to her stomach. When he straightened himself, Molly was watching him and her eyes had darkened considerably. Wordlessly, Molly took Sherlock's hand and started to pull him down the hallway. Sherlock's voice was soft behind her when he spoke.

"I don't have 'girlfriends'…it's not my area…"

Molly smirked and turned to face him, slowly raking her hands up his body to remove his coat. She bit her lip and met his equally dark eyes.

"Well, that's too bad…because you've certainly got one."

Sherlock released a deep breath as Molly winked and disappeared into her bedroom. Sherlock remained rooted to the spot, unable to believe what he had just heard. Molly's impatient sounding voice reached his ears, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Are you coming or not?"

Sherlock didn't need telling twice as he almost tripped over his discarded coat in his haste.

* * *

John swore as he hung up the phone, throwing it back onto the receiver. **Mary's just upset, she'll calm down. **He paced 221B, deciding whether or not to go and visit. Thinking it would be best to leave her for the time being, John settled into his chair and picked up the paper. It was an hour later when he heard an almighty crash downstairs, followed by a loud, frustrated huff. He listened as Mrs. Hudson called out and sighed when Sherlock replied harshly to her. John braced himself as he heard Sherlock stomp aggressively up the stairs to the flat. The door to flat B swung open furiously, hitting the wall and making hell of a noise. Sherlock strolled over to the sofa, throwing himself forcefully onto it and making sure to sigh loudly as he did so. After a few moments, John released a deep breath and the detective simply frowned.

"You're an idiot."

John raised his eyebrows before folding his paper and putting it on the coffee table, fixing Sherlock with a glare.

"Me? What have I done?"

Sherlock slowly turned to face his flatmate, a small frown on his face.

"Oh, nothing…but you are the only one here."

John rolled his eyes as Sherlock turned away, settling into mind palace mode. When nothing came, he cleared his throat and Sherlock opened his eyes, his frown still evident.

"Alright, what did you do?"

Sherlock looked offended but muttered something under his breath that John didn't quite catch. John was highly amused now and folded his arms as he faced Sherlock.

"I'm sorry…what was that?"

"I asked Molly to move in with me!"

Sherlock had yelled this information at John before turning away again, closing his eyes and clasping his hands together. John's mouth hit the ground and he started to stammer pathetically, irritating Sherlock even more.

"I-I…um…w-well, that's…that's good, isn't it?"

Sherlock jumped to his feet and began pacing the flat, waving his hands around wildly. John had never seen him so erratic before. **Did…did Molly say no?**

"It would be…if the circumstances surrounding it were appropriate…"

John licked his lips curiously and tilted his head as Sherlock paused at the window. He noticed the detective seemed keen to avoid his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

Sherlock rocked on his feet as he still faced away from John. He spoke slowly and softly when the words finally came.

"I…it wasn't…proper."

John rubbed his head as Sherlock resumed his pacing, his hands clasped under his chin as he walked quickly. John shook his head and smiled.

"_How _did you ask her? Did you…how did you put it?"

"I believe I said, 'it would be ideal if you joined me at 221B where we can bring our child up together. I wish to protect you.'"

John frowned and fiddled with his hands. Sherlock had stopped, seemingly deep in thought.

"What do you mean, 'you believe'?"

"I did have other things on my mind at the time."

John gritted his teeth and rubbed the back of his neck. Sherlock was giving him a look of utter confusion. John sighed when he spoke.

"…and what did Molly say?"

Sherlock glanced at the floor with a small smirk, placing his hands in his pockets.

"I understand her exact words to be…'yes, yes…oh god yes, my gorgeous d-'"

John made a noise of protest as he almost fell off of his chair in shock. Sherlock was watching him in amusement until John managed to find his voice.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't!"

Sherlock's smirk said it all, however, as John shook his head repeatedly. **Well, I suppose it works for them. Sherlock's very lucky to have someone like Molly. **Sherlock's anger about his feelings had faded as he thought about Molly sharing his living space. Sherlock's heart lifted as he imagined being there for Molly throughout her pregnancy and caring for her during. He smiled warmly as he pictured their child, growing and excelling…and he breathed out as he saw himself there the whole way through. **Yes. There is no way you're getting away now…you're stuck with me, Molly Hooper, for life. **Sherlock lifted his head, realisation setting on his face, and noticed John was staring incredulously at the floor.

"John?"

"Hm?"

"I love Molly Hooper."

* * *

_Oooh, it's all changing now ;) 221B will be crowded with Molly around, lol. Now, I wonder how Sherlock's going to tell Molly? We'll find out next chapter, I guess :) xx Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked that one :D Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	5. Tell Her, Sherlock

_Hello guys and welcome back! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming love for this story :') as long as you keep reading, I'll keep writing :D Thank you so much again and I hope you like this chapter ;) Here's #5…_

* * *

"You…you what?"

John blinked rapidly as Sherlock began dashing around the flat, clearing things out of the way to make space for Molly's arrival. The skull and the mess on the mantelpiece remained untouched, however. John raised his eyebrows as he saw Sherlock shoving various experiments into drawers and cupboards, moving onto the fridge.

"I love Molly. Honestly, John, your hearing is getting worse…"

John shook his head, collapsing into his chair and watching as Sherlock removed old body parts and samples and putting them out of sight. John raised his eyebrows as Sherlock began tearing up bits of paper and scrawling across them. John frowned as he stuck the paper to the drawers and cupboards.

"So…when are you going to tell her…and what are you doing?"

Sherlock breathed out deeply as he looked up to see John staring in confusion at him. He spoke frantically, not wanting to be distracted from his 'tidying'.

"I am not _telling_ her. At least, not yet…I want to do it right. We have only been sleeping together for two months-"

"Yeah…and in that time you've gotten her pregnant and fallen in _love _with her, Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed in irritation and placed a suspicious looking beaker into an unmarked drawer. He proceeded to make more labels and darted around, still half-focusing on his friend.

"Yes. I am surprised it took me that long to realise, actually. I am going to do this in my own time. I shall know when…and as for your other question regarding what I am doing, I am making labels informing Molly what is in the drawers. Soon, she will be unable to stomach my…ah…'projects' so I am doing my best to assist her. Unfortunately, her nature of work is out of my hands…"

John smirked and folded his arms, causing Sherlock to scowl and focus fully on what he was doing.

"You know…I quite like it. You being caring, it isn't so bad. I think I can get used to it…"

"Well, don't. There is still a limit…"

John chuckled before stopping abruptly and narrowing his eyes at Sherlock once more. The detective ignored this and moved over to the microwave.

"You're going to tell Molly I made the labels aren't you?"

Sherlock looked up with a confused frown as John nodded in a 'go on' kind of way. Sherlock straightened up and gave a small shrug.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you don't want Molly to _know _you're caring…"

Sherlock smiled and glanced at the ground as John felt the unfamiliar sensation on pride and triumph. This was soon dashed as Sherlock looked up.

"Of course not. I am going to tell Molly _I_ made them for her."

John's mouth fell open and he tilted his head, watching his baffling flatmate.

"W-why?"

Sherlock's smirk was cheeky and John immediately wished he hadn't asked. Sherlock may have muttered his reply but John could hear him as though the detective was speaking through a megaphone.

"Molly is _very _appreciative. Especially when she is impressed."

John blinked in stunned silence for a few moments and wished he could unhear that conversation. After several moments, Sherlock moved into his bedroom and John managed to reach for his paper, his eyes still wide. Soon, John heard the sound of drawers being shoved open and knew Sherlock was moving things around to make space. It was when a crash sounded that John reluctantly got to his feet to investigate. He peered into Sherlock's room and found, to his horror, the room was a mess. Sherlock was standing by the open window with a pleased smile on his face and John approached. Books, papers and what John assumed to be the remains of a desk drawer were strewn across the ground on the street below them. John turned to Sherlock, his eyebrows raised and a shocked expression on his face.

"You chucked your stuff out of the window?"

Sherlock sighed and moved to his wardrobe, examining the contents and frowning in concentration.

"Yes. I have no need for those books anymore and as for the government documents-"

"What?" Sherlock barely shifted as he flicked his eyes around the wardrobe. John blinked in confusion before shaking repeatedly. "You mean to tell me, potential top secret government information is currently lying on the ground in front of our flat?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes with a small chuckle and folded his arms, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, John. They are not important…"

John frowned as he watched a group of people gathering around the documents. **Something tells me this isn't the first time he's done this. **Sherlock shoved his clothes to one side of the wardrobe and slammed it shut, causing John to turn around. He noticed Sherlock's bed was immaculate whilst the floors were littered with old case files and notes that he still deemed significant. John's eyes were drawn to the wall above Sherlock's bed; there, much like the Cluedo board in the front room, was something nailed to the wall. A bra. One of Molly's, John concluded with a shudder. He turned to Sherlock who was reading his phone with a smirk.

"A souvenir, if you like."

John looked at his friend, who was smirking at his phone devilishly, and shook his head before turning and leaving Sherlock's bedroom. The detective rolled his eyes as he opened his text, his smirk not vanishing.

_Sherlock, I am sure you know what I am about to ask you. Where is the…ah…information I have been gathering? MH_

**Hmmm, he must be in a meeting. He'd call otherwise. **Sherlock tapped in his response, completely taking the opportunity to fully humiliate his brother.

_What 'information' would that be? SH_

_Come now, Sherlock, do not attempt to lie to me. The information I have been gathering for Her Majesty on a top secret assignment. I cannot talk about, Sherlock, I am sure you understand. My people have just informed me you have 'disposed' of some papers from your flat window. It had better not be what I am requesting. MH_

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and furiously tapped on his phone. **'Top secret assignment'? Oh, Mycroft, you do ****_know _****who I am, don't you?**

_Yes, Mycroft, your people are correct…and it's about, not for. I wouldn't consider it an official top secret government assignment. I came across several pages dedicated to what type of tea 'Her Majesty' takes. Your 'sucking up' is rather embarrassing. If she hasn't noticed you by now I doubt she will, brother. I had taken these documents under the impression you had certain intelligence of use to me. I shall not make that mistake again. Do give my love to the young Prince George, won't you? If you ever meet the young heir, that is. SH_

Sherlock didn't receive a text back immediately. Sherlock could imagine, with secret delight, Mycroft sitting in the meeting and stewing silently as he read the text. Sherlock had known for some time that Mycroft was trying to reach the attention of the Queen. The following text he received had Sherlock scowling at his phone.

_I am happy for you, Sherlock. I doubt you'll produce a girl but a boy would be just as entertaining I am certain. My brother, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, a father. I am proud of you, Sherlock. Setting a fine example, aren't you? In future, however, I must insist you be careful. MH_

Sherlock frowned as he tapped in his reply. **Bastard. Cocky, smarmy bastard.**

_Why? SH_

Sherlock tapped the phone impatiently and released an involuntary chuckle as he read his brother's reply.

_I have recently installed new security measures around London. It was a few weeks ago when I stumbled across some interesting footage in St. Bartholomew's Hospital. I was under the impression the mortuary slabs were intended for the deceased, Sherlock. Look after Miss Hooper, brother, she is carrying half of you inside her, after all. Good luck with the move…and the parenthood. MH_

Sherlock tucked his phone into his pocket, with a huff and nodded in appreciation at his room. **Done. It's still missing something, though. Not to worry…she should be here any moment.**

* * *

All of Molly's stuff had managed to fit into two suitcases and several carrier bags; John had managed to shift the furniture she no longer required, since she would be sharing Sherlock's wardrobe and drawer space. Unpacking had barely taken up the afternoon and Molly was pleased her clothes were sitting next to Sherlock's wardrobe. She had dreamed of this day, even if it was just for their child, Molly was thrilled it was even happening at all.

That evening, John had returned from Mary's – he had been unsuccessful in convincing her to come and see Molly – to find Molly reading a book on the sofa, her feet propped on the coffee table under Sherlock's strict instructions. This didn't seem unusual but the fact that Sherlock was resting his head in her lap with his eyes closed and hands clasped whilst Molly ran her fingers through his hair wasn't something John was used to seeing. **The domesticity is already setting in. **John noticed that Sherlock had pressed himself as close as he could to Molly's stomach. He smiled warmly as he sat in his chair, unfolding his paper carefully. John noticed out of the corner of his eye Molly stilling her fingers movement as she frowned at her book. He didn't seem to like that for he cleared his throat and nodded his head in encouragement. Molly bit back a smirk and continued threading lovingly as Sherlock relaxed against her touch, turning his head ever so slightly to place a kiss to her stomach. John's heart softened and Molly spoke softly.

"How about Tom?"

John frowned and peered around his paper. Molly had abandoned her book and was speaking low to Sherlock, whose concentration appeared to be wavering as he spoke.

"No."

"David?"

"Definitely not."

"…Matt?"

"Molly…these names don't have anything to do with that TV show you're obsessed with does it?"

Molly's mouth dropped open in mock offense as Sherlock opened his eyes to look at her. John rolled his eyes and turned back to his paper.

"No, of course not…and Doctor Who ISN'T _just_ a TV show. We need boy's names, Sherlock. We haven't got any…"

John smiled softly as Sherlock sighed deeply, closing his eyes once more.

"I wouldn't say that. Mycroft seems to think I am incapable of creating a girl and had therefore e-mailed a list of potential names for us. I replied with a carefully worded message about what happened the last time my brother didn't mind his own business. Besides, we have nine months to decide for ourselves, Molly."

Molly nodded and relaxed against the cushions, deep in thought. As she thought, her hands threaded deeper into Sherlock's curls and her nails dug into his head, massaging thoroughly. Sherlock stiffened and licked his lips slightly. Molly smirked as she glanced down at him.

"You've been busy today, haven't you?"

Sherlock gave the smallest of nods and John gripped the edges of his paper tightly. **Oh. Dear. God. **Molly's gave a devious smile as she tilted her head to the side.

"It was nice of you to put the labels on the drawers, John."

John snorted as Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, opening his eyes once more and frowning. **Oh, she's clever. **Sherlock grumbled to himself for a moment andJohn rolled his eyes but watched Molly lean forwards and placed a soft kiss to Sherlock's forehead, whispering softly as she did so.

"Thank you."

Sherlock shrugged with a small smirk and John rolled his eyes. It was a few moments later when Sherlock unclasped his hands and started to stroke Molly's leg fondly when John shoved his paper on the table, turning to them.

"Ok…I can see we are going to need some ground rules."

Sherlock and Molly exchanged glances before looking at John, who was tapping his chair awkwardly. Sherlock smirked as he saw John open and close his mouth several times before words managed to form.

"Look, I understand you're…um…well…you like to…um…you know…and I…I don't…well…can you…it's just-"

"John. Are you trying to tell us not to have extremely loud and vigorous sex whilst you are trying to sleep?"

John raised his eyebrows and his eyes swivelled between them as Sherlock sat up straight, Molly's hands dropping to her sides. Molly nodded slightly before speaking to John herself.

"Or to keep it in the bedroom so as not to traumatise you? Honestly, John, we are adults with a child on the way. I think we can control ourselves."

Sherlock nodded in agreement and Molly fidgeted uncomfortably. John's ears were glowing red and he looked at the floor in deep embarrassment. Although, he was beginning to doubt the truth of their words as their gaze occasionally drifted to the other and John could almost hear the dirty thoughts filling their heads. Soon, Sherlock was pulling Molly softly to his – _their_ – bedroom, nodding goodnight to John as they left. John stayed where he was for a moment before disappearing into his room. In the privacy of their bedroom, Sherlock turned to Molly and placed his hands in his pockets.

"We are not going to listen to him, are we? We need to christen our new bedroom, don't we?"

Molly giggled softly as she began unbuttoning her shirt. She glanced over her shoulder to Sherlock who was still standing by the door and shrugged.

"John will tell us off. Well, tell _you _off."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and watched as Molly examined herself in the mirror, turning around and tilting her head in different angles. She sighed and slumped her shoulders.

"I suppose you've got to enjoy this whilst you can…"

Sherlock frowned and approached Molly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He softly brushed his fingers across her stomach. **Say something supportive. If you can manage it. **Sherlock sighed.

"Molly…there are many things I can say and they would all be true. Like, 'no matter what you look like I'd still be attracted to you' or 'this is just temporary and you won't regret it in the end'. Those are just words, though. Words without proper meaning because you didn't believe me…"

Molly opened her eyes and looked into the mirror, seeing Sherlock's blue eyes looking into her brown ones. She hadn't noticed she'd been biting her lip. Sherlock's hands rested flat against her stomach and he spoke low into her ear.

"I cannot tell you I wish I could go through this for you…but I can tell you that I will be here for you every step of the way. Through the pain, the hormones, the birth and, most importantly, the rest of our lives."

Molly blinked rapidly at the water that had formed in her eyes suddenly. Sherlock smirked as he closed his eyes, kissing her neck fondly. Molly chuckled softly as she placed her hands on his, choking out her words.

"Do you mean that?"

Sherlock raised his eyes to meet hers in the mirror and swallowed. **Tell her. This is the right moment. Now, tell her NOW! **Molly bit her lip as she waited for Sherlock's response. **If you don't say anything, you will lose her and your child. **Sherlock cleared his throat and stepped away, turning her around to face him and breathing deeply, mentally preparing himself for the moment he had been waiting for…

* * *

_Ok, so I had real trouble finishing this chapter as you can probably tell :/ Well, the next chapter will certainly be interesting, anyway ;) Feelings…and Mary's redemption…looking forward to that :D xx Anyway, there's still plenty more to come if you want it that is ;p Thank you so much for reading and I hope you liked that chapter :) Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	6. The First Date, Sort Of

_Hello and welcome back guys! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, it means so much to me :') It's feelings time, people! Here we go… ;) xx_

* * *

Molly's expectant expression and Sherlock's desperation forced the words from his lips, the words that he truly and honestly meant. The words that were a gateway into his very heart and the feelings she evoked in him.

"Look, I had planned to do this elsewhere…but the time has come." Molly blinked in confusion as Sherlock experienced the unfamiliar sensation of struggling for words. "I mean every word because it's true. I am not going anywhere because I can't. I love you, Molly Hooper." Molly's mouth fell open as Sherlock threw his arms out, waving them around wildly. "Yes…and one day, if that's alright with you…I want more children, dozens in fact…and a marriage…and a life. I am sorry it took me so long to say…and realise," Molly's eyes watered as she smiled brightly and Sherlock took her hands gently, looking into her eyes, "…but for the first time ever, I am revealing my biggest secret, my hopes and dreams…Mycroft was wrong. Love isn't a weakness or a disadvantage…thank you for helping me realise this."

Molly shook herself, a wide grin spreading across her face as Sherlock collapsed onto the bed in front of her. She approached him and ran her fingers through his hair again and he responded by placing kisses around her stomach. Molly spoke in a soft, seductive voice and Sherlock's breath caught.

"Oh, Sherlock Holmes…I love you so much…do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Sherlock glanced up into her brown eyes and shook his head gently, a sly smirk on his face. Molly gently pushed him backwards so he was lying on his back and she was on top of him. She bit her lip softly and traced his lips with her finger.

"…that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me…" Sherlock grimaced and Molly rolled her eyes and giggled, leaning so she was hovering inches from his lips, "…oh shut up and help me 'christen the bedroom'…"

Sherlock's smirk was quickly wiped away by  
his girlfriend's lips on his.

* * *

"What the hell did I tell you two yesterday?"

John was standing in the doorway of the flat, his arms folded and eyebrows raised. He had walked in on the perfectly innocent sight of Molly sitting in Sherlock's lap on the sofa wearing Sherlock's dressing gown and very messy hair, Molly's arms wrapped around his neck, playing with his equally messy hair and his hands on her stomach. They had been kissing slowly and passionately when John had burst in. They broke away reluctantly but didn't shift their position; Molly settled for resting her head against Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock looked incredibly irritated as he looked at his friend.

"About what?"

John raised his eyebrows and inadvertently dropped the paper he was holding. He rubbed the back of his neck, growing irritated.

"Let me see…last night I had to sleep with a _pillow _over my head because you- stop smirking!"

Molly bit her lip tightly and Sherlock shrugged as John shook his head and moved to his chair, not before retrieving his discarded paper. He heard the sound of shifting bodies on the sofa and frowned. He peered over his paper and smiled softly as he saw them in the same position as last night; Sherlock resting in Molly's lap, turned towards her stomach whilst her fingers ran through his hair. John cleared his throat and Molly turned towards him; Sherlock simply ignored him.

"I'm seeing Mary later…I can ask her to come over if you like…"

"No, thank you…"

Molly stood up suddenly and hurried towards the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Sherlock huffed and sat up straight, folding his arms like a child as John stared in confusion.

"We need to do something about them."

John turned to his friend, even more confused.

"I thought you didn't like Mary…"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, his hands clasped under his chin.

"She is Molly's friend and your girlfriend. I don't really have a choice."

John nodded and clapped his hands together, thinking hard.

"Ok…but what are we going to do…and how? You saw that…Molly's not going to forgive easily…"

Sherlock settled against the cushions before grinning widely, a plan forming in his brilliant mind.

"I think it's high time Molly and I had our first date, don't you? That's what people do, isn't it? Dates?" John nodded, beginning to see where exactly where Sherlock was going. "You and Mary just _happen _to be at the same restaurant…it's so fool proof even you couldn't screw it up…"

John scowled as Sherlock rose to his feet approaching his bedroom door, turning back to face the doctor.

"Well…go and see her, then. You two need to be there for this to work."

John blinked and threw his paper onto the table, grumbling as he left the flat.

* * *

"A night out? Why?"

John shrugged and placed his hands in his pockets as Mary placed hers on her hips.

"I thought it would be nice, you know…getting your mind off things…a nice meal, just you and me…"

Mary smiled warmly and moved to sit next to John, hugging him tightly to her. He swallowed nervously and Mary stood up, pulling him along to her bedroom.

"Help me choose something to wear…"

John sighed but grinned to himself. As Mary started pulling items of clothing from her wardrobe, John discreetly sent a text to the detective.

_That was surprisingly easy. Now it's your turn. JW_

* * *

Sherlock tucked his phone quickly into his pocket with a smirk as Molly re-entered the bedroom; she had previously ran off to the bathroom as a reminder of her current condition. Sherlock was lounging on the bed, looking at her when she opened the door.

"What?"

Sherlock licked his lips before sitting up and gesturing for Molly to sit next to him. Molly did so, suspiciously narrowing her eyes. Sherlock reached out and gently caressed her stomach, meeting her eyes with his.

"I have been thinking…we didn't have a first date or any date as a matter of fact." Molly was watching him, suspicion rising inside but she let him continue. "I have been informed people usually go on these dates before jumping into bed…we bypassed the whole first stage. It should prove to be most pleasurable…"

"As pleasurable as the second?"

Sherlock glanced down and bit back his smirk. **I'm not entirely sure. **Molly placed her hands over his and Sherlock looked back into her eyes.

"Sherlock Holmes, are you asking me out?"

Sherlock nodded softly and Molly beamed in delight, clapping her hands like an excited child. Molly kissed his cheek fondly before dashing to the wardrobe and Sherlock released a sigh of relief. She shooed him out of the bedroom for some reason and Sherlock decided it was pointless changing himself. After what felt like hour and a lot of nervous watch-checking, the bedroom doors opened and Molly emerged. She was wearing a beautiful purple dress that she had only worn once before. It suited her figure perfectly, which is why she loved it so much. Molly ran a nervous hand through her loose hair and cleared her throat, bringing Sherlock from his daze.

"I thought I'd wear it while I still could…I only bought it last month, what do you think? I distinctly remember you liked it last time…"

Sherlock blinked several times, his mouth unusually dry. He rose from the sofa and picked his phone up with a sigh, tapping away. Molly frowned and tilted her head.

"What are you doing?"

"Cancelling our reservation."

Molly raised her eyebrows as Sherlock continued tapping away. Molly folded her arms and stepped forwards.

"Why?"

"I'm hungry, Molly, but not for food…that's why."

Molly's stomach fluttered as he tossed the phone onto the chair and began kissing up her neck. Momentarily distracted, Molly sighed and ran her hands through his hair before shaking her head, her voice breathier than anticipated.

"No…you promised me a date. I'm getting one, now." Sherlock didn't say anything and had reached her ear jaw now, and his hands gripped her hips. Molly cleared her throat, trying to steady her voice. "Do this for me…and you'll get it later…I promise…"

Sherlock raised his blackened eyes to her and stepped away, folding his arms.

"You promise?"

"Oh yes, Sherlock. You're not getting away that easily."

Sherlock chuckled and dropped to his knees in front of her. What he did next shocked her to her very core. He rested his cheek softly against her stomach and spoke in a low, soft voice.

"I am going to love you so much…as much as I can…I am not very good at this sort of thing, but I will try every day. I will love you so much…both of you."

Molly smiled softly, happy tears stinging her eyes, smoothing her fingers through his hair. Sherlock stood up suddenly and winked, pulling her towards the door of the flat, heading to the restaurant.

* * *

"Oh, Sherlock, Molly what a coincidence…"

John was waving them over to the table, a nervous smile on his face. Sherlock gave a fake smile as he pulled a shocked looking Molly over to their table. Mary folded her arms and turned away as Molly sat opposite. Sherlock leaned back against his chair, tapping his leg in impatience. He had hoped to be as quick as possible so he could fulfil Molly's promise. Sherlock, fed up with the awkward silence, spoke in an incredibly sarcastic voice.

"Hello, Mary…how _are_ you?"

Mary gave an equally sarcastic smile and Molly swallowed urgently, staring intently at her lap. John's gaze shifted between the two women and he buried his face in the menu. Molly fiddled with her hands and Mary scowled at the detective, ignoring John's mutterings to her.

"So…you've moved in?"

Molly frowned and looked up at her friend, confusion filling her. **John told her then? **Molly took Sherlock's hand under the table and took a deep breath.

"Yes…we are having a child, Mary and we love-"

"Don't…he's only with you because-"

John winced as he heard the sound of Molly's hand connecting with Mary's cheek, knocking the water jug everywhere. John glanced opposite him and noticed Sherlock was trying and failing not to smirk. John listened as Molly roughly took her phone from her pocket and thrust it at a hurt looking Mary.

"If Sherlock didn't care about _us_...then what do you call this?"

Mary giggled softly at the background on her friend's phone: the personalised babygros. After a moment or two, Mary breathed out.

"Ah…shit, Mols…I'm so sorry. I just over-reacted; you're like my little sister. I should have realised you're a grown woman and can make your own decisions…but these are perfect."

There was the sound of anguished sobbing as both women got to their feet and hugged each other. John smiled softly and Sherlock rolled his eyes, waving towards the waiter. He ordered for everyone, including a small plate of salad for himself; he made sure Molly's choice was healthy and large. Once he had finished with the drinks – non-alcoholic much to Mary's displeasure – he turned back to the table and noticed Mary holding out her hand and shifting awkwardly.

"Look…I may not know what on Earth Molly sees in you, but it must be something otherwise she wouldn't be having your kid," Sherlock raised his eyebrows and folded his arms as Mary struggled on, "…and if Molly's happy, then I suppose I'll have to _tolerate _you. I'm sorry…for, you know…hitting you."

"Don't flatter yourself," a look from Molly and John caused Sherlock to sigh deeply and grumpily take Mary's hand, "…I suppose I can tolerate you as well. For the time being, at least."

Before Mary could open her mouth to retaliate, the waiter returned with their drinks. Sherlock released a bored sigh as John and Mary struck up a conversation about something he couldn't care less about. He smirked as he noticed the bathroom doors, nodding towards them and blinking expectantly at Molly. She shook her head with a devious smirk and a wink; it was when he applied the puppy dog eyes that she melted and gave a subtle nod. As they were about to excuse themselves, the waiter chose this moment to appear with their meals. Sherlock sighed deeply and caught Molly's eyes, taking in the fact that she was licking her lips…but not at the food in front of her. Sherlock suppressed a shiver with great difficulty and the four of them ate in silence, Sherlock hurriedly as he was desperate to leave now. Finally, everyone had finished and everything was paid for; Sherlock could wait no longer and, by the way he saw Molly tap her foot, neither could she. He rose to his feet, suddenly and cleared his throat causing John and Mary to look up.

"We are going now, I'll see you tomorrow. Molly…are you ready?"

Molly bit his lip as she heard his husky voice and took his outstretched hand, waving goodbye to John and Mary as she was being pulled away. The remaining couple stared blankly for a moment before Mary's half-amused, half-annoyed voice sounded.

"Do you want to stay at mine tonight?"

"Mary, you are a lifesaver."

Mary giggled and drained her glass, frowning towards the door. **This is still weird.**

* * *

After their uncomfortably long taxi journey, Sherlock and Molly practically fell through the doors of 221B, entwined around each other. Sherlock's lips were exploring her chest, his hands roaming everywhere they could reach and Molly was gasping and sighing, Sherlock's name falling from her lips lovingly. How they made it upstairs was a miracle but here they were, Molly's back pressed against the wall as Sherlock pulled at her dress, her straps falling down her arms and his hands moving up her thighs and under her dress. Molly's fingers danced across his shirt buttons and he sucked at her neck passionately, causing her to moan in delight.

"Well…it looks like you've got some explaining to do, young man…"

The voice sounded from the sofa behind them, making them jump and arrange their clothes, trying to cool their flushed faces. Sherlock knew who it was only too well and dropped his forehead to Molly's shoulder before turning to face the posh, stern-looking, well-dressed woman sitting on his sofa with her arms folded a frown on her face.

"Mother..."

Molly bit her lip glowing bright red and she and Sherlock both had the same thought enter their head. **I'm going to kill Mycroft...**

* * *

_Hmmm…not sure who to feel more sorry for here, lol. I think it was about time Mrs. Holmes dropped by on her precious son, don't you? ;) Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I hope you liked that chapter :D xx Until next time, my fellow Sherlollians. Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	7. I Have Good News

_Hello and welcome back, guys! I am overwhelmed with how much love this story is getting :') Thank you so much for everything, I love you guys! I hope you like this chapter… xx_

* * *

Molly and Sherlock stood breathing heavily for a moment, both frustrated and itching to run their hands along the other's bodies. Mrs. Holmes glanced from one to the other, sighing in disgrace and her voice one of extreme disappointment.

"I should have known _you _wouldn't tell me about this…"

Sherlock scowled; he hated how his mother made him feel like a teenager being told off. **For goodness sake, ****_she _****broke into my flat and interrupted…my evening. **Molly was shaking with unfulfilled lust and avoided looking at Sherlock's mother nervously. Mrs. Holmes, however, stood and walked over to them, extending her hand.

"Daphne Holmes…never Daph, please…and you are?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes apologetically and Molly swallowed, her face still flushed. Sherlock was fidgeting uncomfortably with the force of restraining himself; his 'dirty thought' tally was rising considerably.

"Um…Molly Hooper…it's nice to meet you…"

Daphne smiled and folded her arms. Molly was reminded of someone who was extremely proud of themselves.

"Sweetie…I gave the world a genius 'consulting detective' and a secretive government agent…if I were you, it'd be more than _nice_ to meet me…"

Molly raised her eyebrows and glanced quickly at Sherlock but Daphne chuckled, poking her on the arm gently.

"I'm only teasing, dear. Look, we'll talk more in the morning…I'll take the spare room, yes? Thank you…"

Before Sherlock could protest extremely strongly, his mother had disappeared into John's room. It didn't take long for the pair to recover from her interruption as their eyes met. Sherlock pressed himself against Molly and started kissing along her body…loudly. Molly was tugging his hair and sighing with pleasure.

"If you insist on, you know, having sex whilst I am here…do keep it down, I have a long day tomorrow…"

Sherlock frowned and groaned into Molly's skin but she simply giggled as he stepped away and pulled her along to their bedroom hurriedly. Molly giggled manically as she was shoved gently onto the bed. Sherlock wasted no time in joining her and removing the dress he approved so highly of. Molly ran her fingers through his hair as he placed a flurry of kisses to her bare stomach. She smiled down at him, flicking at his shirt buttons lightly.

"Soon…"

Sherlock mumbled something incoherent and Molly sighed, tossing his shirt to the floor; she loved hearing his voice. He crept up her body slowly and met her lips in a passionate kiss. Pulling away, Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but-

"I'm trying to sleep in here!"

Sherlock frowned sulkily and threw himself next to Molly with his arms folded. Molly giggled softly and placed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Sherlock relaxed and shifted closer, resting his head against Molly's stomach. They soon drifted into an uncomfortable yet peaceful sleep.

* * *

A piercing scream awoke the sleeping couple what felt like only a few minutes later. Pressing his finger to his lips and gesturing for her to stay there, Sherlock hurried out of his bedroom and into John's room. The sight before him was quite amusing. His mother was clutching her dressing gown to her chest with one hand and waving an umbrella with the other whilst John was cowered in the corner. Sherlock sighed and ran a hand through his hair, glaring at his mother impatiently.

"For God's sake!"

Daphne frowned and pointed at John accusingly.

"This…whoever he is, tried to get in _bed _with me!"

John raised his eyebrows and Sherlock had to really fight his smirk. John turned to the detective, shaking his head vigorously.

"Sherlock, I swear I have no-"

"It's alright, John. This is my mother, Daphne Holmes. Mother, this is my flatmate, John Watson."

John gaped and Daphne relaxed, climbing back into bed. John and Sherlock exchanged worried glances as she turned to face them.

"In that case, goodnight sherlock. Mr. Watson, I must warn you…I fidget in my sleep."

Sherlock muttered a hasty goodnight and retreated from the room with wide eyes. John blinked before following his friend; from outside John's room, they distinctly heard Daphne laughing. John scowled as Sherlock disappeared into his bedroom and approached the sofa, groaning as he tried to get himself comfortable.

The following morning, however, was rather awkward indeed. Sherlock frowned at his mother, his arms wrapped around Molly who was perched on his lap. John was trying to ignore the tension as he sipped his tea. Daphne released a dramatic sigh as she narrowed her eyes at her son.

"Look, it's not my fault! It can't be healthy for the little one, all this sex!"

Molly choked on the orange juice she was drinking, prompting Sherlock to gently tap her on the back whilst shooting his mother what John called a 'death glare'. **So, Mycroft ****_has _****been busy. Her Majesty The Queen will be impressed. **John himself, however, was staring open-mouthed and realised the Holmes' brothers had gained their tact from their mother. Daphne was wearing a proud look as she delicately sipped her coffee. **She is not staying for long!**

* * *

**_6 weeks later_**

Six weeks! Six weeks Daphne Holmes had manipulated, persuaded and batted her eyelashes to stay at 221B and her youngest son had had enough. Molly, on the other hand, had developed a keen liking of the woman which didn't help Sherlock at all. The women had bonded by going shopping for maternity clothes and various foods Molly had developed cravings for; these seemed to include greasy foods, much to Sherlock's displeasure, ice cream and Nutella and banana sandwiches to everyone's disgust. Food wasn't the _only _thing Molly had developed a craving for as Sherlock discovered, with extreme delight. During this phase, Daphne and John had to exercise extreme caution when entering the flat.

Sherlock occupied his free time by being as far away from the flat as he could; accepting every case Scotland Yard had to offer helped him to do this. John had been spending more and more nights at Mary's, claiming the sofa messed up his back. To top it all off, every night Sherlock and Molly were alone…they weren't _alone_; Daphne would occasionally yell something and interrupt the mood.

One night, she had left the confines of John's bedroom and ventured through the flat to Sherlock and Molly's bedroom. She had pressed her ear to the door and - hearing nothing but the occasional sigh, tiny giggle and shushing sound - pushed the door open silently. She had raised her eyebrows and, upon noticing the bed covers moving around, cleared her throat. She had heard a small squeak and the covers had been thrown back, revealing a breathless Molly lying on her back and her voice had sounded hurried.

"Yes...Daphne?"

Daphne had narrowed her eyes as Molly's flushed face showed no signs of disappearing.

"I just wondered…it would be wise to employ a nanny for the child once it is born. I had one for my boys and they turned out fine."

"Better than fine…I'd say…" Daphne had been about to ask what she had said but Molly had shaken her head, "…do we have to…talk about this now?"

"I suppose not but-"

At a huff of irritation from under the covers, Daphne had shaken her head despairingly and left the bedroom, immediately hearing the sounds of before filling the bedroom.

Daphne was all packed now and was going to stay with Mycroft for the same duration, promising to drop in and check on the baby. She waved her goodbyes and disappeared into the black car outside the flat. Sherlock marvelled at his self-control; if he could survive six weeks of his mother's annoyance, he was certain the teenage years were going to be simple. As these weeks rolled by, Sherlock had been keeping a close eye on the calendar, his smirk growing wider as the circled date grew closer. Finally, this circled date was upon them and John plucked up the courage to ask what it was. **Please, God don't let it be a 'the first time we-' no I can't. I can't. I won't.**

"So…what's today? It's on the calendar."

Sherlock was sprawled on the sofa, his eyes closed and hands clasped. He looked extremely uncomfortable; this was probably due to the fact that Molly was at work and he had grown used to relaxing against her protectively. Sherlock released a deep sigh and spoke in an uneasy voice.

"The scan."

John raised his eyebrows and shook his head repeatedly. **Wow. Time does fly when you're being harassed by your flatmate's mum.**

"Really? Wow…that came round quick. How do you feel?"

Sherlock opened his eyes and turned to his friend who looked concerned.

"It makes everything real, John. I am going to see, for the first time, my unborn child…and to be honest," Sherlock turned away and fixed his eyes to the ceiling, "I have never felt more pleased to be terrified."

John chuckled softly and turned to his paper. The rest of the day passed normally for everyone else and at a snail's pace for the detective, who took to pacing for the remainder. It was when Sherlock started to play his violin and stopping every now and again to sigh that John decided to go and visit Mary. Sherlock moved to the sofa and proceeded to rock backwards and forwards, staring every now and then at the clock. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he jumped to his feet and left quickly for Bart's.

Molly was leaning over a body and sighing dramatically, trying to concentrate but finding the clock to be a huge distraction. A worried and irritated voice sounded behind her.

"What are you doing? You have to be careful!"

Molly rolled her eyes and turned to see Sherlock leaning against the door frame of the morgue. He soon softened and folded his arms, shrugging with a small smirk.

"Our appointment is very soon."

Molly giggled as Sherlock approached and embraced her gently. She pulled away and smiled softly, meeting his blue eyes.

"Are you excited, Sherlock Holmes?"

Sherlock scoffed but was already pulling her out of the morgue and along the corridor, not even bothered about the body Molly had left behind.

"Don't be ridiculous."

* * *

St. Bart's waiting room was a nightmare. Sherlock was leaning back in his chair, tapping his foot and examining various different people. He glanced towards Molly who was fiddling with her hands; Sherlock rolled his eyes and took her hand, only partly to stop her fiddling. After a considerable amount of time, and much frustration from the annoyed pair, they were called into a private room. Mycroft had insisted he'd provide their care for them but Sherlock and Molly had insisted on Bart's. Their sonographer smiled politely at them and Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. **Hmmm, competent indeed. Sensible worker, unlikely to make mistakes. Has her own children, so experienced. Probably has-**

"Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes and Miss Hooper. I suppose you've been waiting for this day, eh?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered 'obviously' under his breath. Molly shot him a warning look as she positioned herself carefully into the chair.

"Right then, let's see the little one then, shall we?"

Molly smiled nervously and Sherlock stopped pacing, approaching Molly and taking her hand supportively. Molly lifted her jumper and shivered as the cool gel was applied to her stomach and Sherlock was growing increasingly irritated with the overly smiley sonographer. Sherlock stared intently at the screen and Molly's grip on his hand tightened. The screechy voice of the sonographer reached his eyes.

"Ooh…that's lovely. Everything looks healthy here, excellent." Sherlock bit back his smile but Molly had no such luck. "Now, would you like to know what your little bundle's going to be?"

Molly and Sherlock simultaneously shook their heads, mesmerised by the tiny image of their child on the screen. The sonographer looked shocked but nodded understandingly, removing herself from the room to leave them alone. They glanced towards each other and Molly grinned broadly.

"So…what do you think?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side.

"I am certain he's a boy…but I do not want a stranger to tell me that."

Molly's eyes widened and her smile grew.

"Me too."

Sherlock nodded gently and found he couldn't tear his gaze away from the screen. Soon, the sonographer returned with some papers for them.

"Ok, here's everything you need, including a picture of the little one. If there are any problems, Miss Hooper, please feel free to drop by. I'll see you very soon."

Molly beamed at the kind lady and fixed her clothing. Sherlock extended his hand and the woman took it, smiling widely. Sherlock reached the door behind her and whispered into her ear.

"We cannot show John…he's a doctor, he'll know. I don't like it when John knows something I do not."

Molly shook her head and pulled him out of the room, itching to tell whoever would listen her good news.

* * *

The doors to 221B burst open, causing John to jump and peer past his paper. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Sherlock carrying a squealing Molly bridal style through the doors, speaking in a low voice.

"If you think you're walking ever again…"

Once back on the ground, Molly playfully poked him and shook her head. Sherlock collapsed onto the sofa and gestured for Molly to join him. She held up a hand to him before removing the ultrasound pictures from her bag and waving them at John. Sherlock huffed in irritation as John beamed at the pictures, raising his gaze to the detective's and giving him a smug smile.

"If you look hard enough, you'll know too."

"I do not _want _to know."

John rolled his eyes and Molly settled onto the sofa, Sherlock shifting into her lap and cuddling up to her stomach. After a moment or two, John couldn't contain himself any longer and threw his paper onto the coffee table.

"I, also, have some news..." Sherlock grunted and Molly nodded in acknowledgment even though she was staring intently at the detective as she ran her fingers through his hair, "…I'm getting married."

Sherlock and Molly turned slowly to the doctor who was beaming from ear to ear, showing them his glittering engagement ring.

* * *

_Mmm, it's all change now. I hope you liked this chapter (I couldn't wait any longer for the scan, sorry if it seemed rushed :) xx Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, it means so much to me :D Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	8. A Future Mrs Holmes?

_Hello again, everyone. I am still so overwhelmed you are still even reading this story. Thank you all so much :) I really do appreciate it and I am glad you are enjoying it ;p I hope you like this one. Here's 8…_

* * *

After a few minutes of silent staring, Molly jumped to her feet, effectively forcing Sherlock to sit up in the process, and threw her arms around John, bursting into tears as she held him.

"Oh, that is wonderful news…"

John beamed, nodding in confusion and glancing towards Sherlock who looked rather annoyed. When Molly pulled away, she was rubbing her eyes and sobbing happily. John looked frightened and Sherlock confused as Molly buried her face in her hands.

"What's the matter?"

Sherlock couldn't keep the concern from his voice, no matter how ridiculous he thought his girlfriend was behaving. Molly shook her head and mumbled into her hands.

"I…I d-don't know…I-I'm just…happy, e-excuse me…"

Molly disappeared into the bedroom, slamming it behind her. Sherlock shrugged and waved a dismissive hand, settling uncomfortably back into the cushions.

"Hormones, I suppose."

John nodded, staring at Sherlock's bedroom door as though expecting it to explode. Sherlock had been prepared for this for some time but it was still unexpected; one moment she was trying to rip his head off and the next she was tearing at his clothes. John watched as Sherlock avoided his gaze and instead scowled at the ceiling. He tilted his head to the side and sighed dramatically.

"I'm…going to have to move out, you know. Mary and I are moving into her flat together until we find a bigger place."

Sherlock ignored him and continued to stare intently at the ceiling, his hands clasped under his chin. John frowned and folded his arms.

"Alright, what's up? Aren't you happy for me?"

Sherlock blinked rapidly for a moment before quickly flicking his gaze towards his bedroom, biting his lip softly. After a while, he spoke in a quiet whisper which confused John.

"Yes, of course. It is just…_now _you have now aroused Molly's expectations. I wanted it to be a surprise…"

John raised his eyebrows and forgot to whisper when he spoke, pointing accusingly at his flatmate.

"Are you going to propose to Molly?"

Sherlock shushed him harshly and glanced towards the bedroom; he could hear Molly's sobs had subsided and she was now talking low on the phone to someone, Mary probably. Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned to his flatmate with a frown.

"Well, it's going to be bloody difficult now."

John folded his arms and shook his head with a smirk.

"Trust me, Sherlock. That's the _last_ thing Molly expects from you."

The detective seemed to find comfort in these words as he nodded once and relaxed slightly. John picked up his paper and returned to his reading as Sherlock's bedroom door opened; Molly entered wearing Sherlock's dressing gown, the silk fabric clinging to her tiny bump. John noticed Sherlock was trying and failing to avoid looking at her as she sauntered forwards and the doctor quickly cleared his throat and buried himself in his paper. **I cannot wait to move out. **Molly had reached Sherlock now and he had closed his eyes tight, trying to concentrate on his thinking. It was disastrously unsuccessful as he felt Molly's gentle hands moving up his chest to wrap around his neck, before her lips were attacking his playfully. Sherlock bit his lip tight as Molly kissed along to his ear before whispering in a sultry tone.

"Mmm…bed's cold on my own…"

Sherlock shivered involuntarily as Molly stepped away with a devious wink before walking back to the bedroom, swinging her hips seductively as she did so. After a moment or two, John heard Sherlock clear his throat and rise to his feet.

"John…I'm going to bed…"

John frowned as he looked over his paper; Sherlock was staring at his bedroom door and rubbing his hands together. John glanced at his watch, shaking his head.

"It's 7:00pm, Sherlock…"

"Yes."

John gave an exaggerated sigh as Sherlock swept hurriedly into his bedroom. **I really cannot wait to move out.**

* * *

Sherlock yawned and stretched his arm out automatically, feeling an empty space next to him. He frowned. **Stupid work. **He noticed a piece of paper on Molly's pillow and rubbed his eyes before sitting up to read it.

_Go get them bad guys, babe. We'll see you later, I love you xx Molly_

Sherlock smiled widely and placed the note tenderly on his bedside table. He pulled his dressing gown around himself and stepping into the living room. He rolled his eyes as he noticed the paper by the door. **John is not awake yet. **Sherlock's eyes widened and a deep scowl set on his face.

"JOHN!"

John grumbled at the shouting and hammering to his door. He groaned as Sherlock pulled the door open and scowled at his friend. John sighed and sat up straight, rubbing his eyes. **Privacy means nothing to this man, does it?**

"What the-"

Sherlock cut him off by throwing the paper at him, scowling deeply. John glanced quickly at the front page, gasping as he clutched it closer. He looked up and met Sherlock's gaze.

"No."

"Oh, yes!"

Sherlock stomped from the bedroom and John scrambled out of bed, completely ignoring his dressing gown. He padded into the front room and noticed the detective pacing frantically.

"Read it, John."

John collapsed in his chair and swallowed before reading aloud.

_"'BACHELOR NO MORE'…_honestly, I was hardly-"

"John!"

John shook his head and continued reading, ignoring the picture of he and Mary arm in arm, the clip zoomed in on Mary's ring finger. Sherlock was still pacing, frantically looking towards John.

"um…_'being the partner of the famous detective Sherlock Holmes, it must be difficult to maintain an active social life. It seems, however, that ex-bachelor John Watson has broken that typical stereotype by stepping out with a blonde female. Sources believe her to be Mary Morstan, a local nursery manager. A friend of the couple-'"_

"Skip that, it is just some rubbish about your 'wedding plans'."

John frowned in horrified confusion. **We haven't made any plans yet. **John glanced back at the picture. **This was taken yesterday after I asked her; we went to get some champagne to celebrate. **John cleared his throat and flipped the page, noticing immediately why Sherlock was so upset. There, on a double page spread, was various different fuzzy images of Molly entering and leaving 221B during the start of their relationship. This was followed by blurry pictures of Sherlock entering and leaving Molly's building. Both times showed the first images to be late evening or night and the second pictures showed the times to be the following morning, even days later. Sherlock was now urging him to read more.

"Mycroft?"

John was frowning at the images as Sherlock didn't reply but nodded vigorously. Sighing, John noticed the heading at the top of the paper, in large bold font: SHERLOCK'S MYSTERY GIRL (CUE THE MILLIONS OF SOBBING LADIES). John frowned in annoyance at the words and Sherlock's voice sounded by the window.

"Yes, I know. I can assure you, John, Molly is anything…but a _girl_. Borderline animal like…"

John groaned in irritation as he squinted at the tiny type at the sides of the paper.

_"Sorry, ladies! The consulting detective himself may have a secret or two if these elusive and conclusive pictures are anything to go by. I am sure there are plenty who would want to be in her shoes. Whoever she may be.' _Sherlock-"

"Just read on…it gets better."

Grumbling to himself, John licked his dry lips and took a deep breath. Sherlock had returned to pacing, his steps quicker and his hands clasped behind him.

_'So, who is the woman linked with the notoriously cold and clever Sherlock Holmes? Witnesses and-"_

"Witnesses, John." John winced as Sherlock let out a short sharp laugh, pointing wildly at the offending articles. "I think _I'd _have noticed people gathered around whilst Molly and I sha-"

"Yeah thanks, Sherlock. Just…never believe anything you read. This person is clearly clueless."

Sherlock took deep breaths and waved his hand in a 'get on with it' movement. John complied, very reluctantly.

_"'Witnesses and sources believe her to be Millie Hooper, a morgue technician-"_

"Do you understand the grief she will get at work because of…_this," _Sherlock jabbed his finger furiously at the name of the writer. John bit his lips, concerned for his friend's mental state and rather annoyed at the interruptions. Sherlock was now shaking his head and muttering to himself, "_Millie _Hooper. Moron."

John shook himself and followed the words with his finger. **This is…there are no words.**

_"'Has this mousy little woman managed to tame the great detective? Rumours reach my investigative ears-'" _there was a loud snort from the detective and John started to read much quicker, wanting this to end, _'"we'll be hearing the pitter patter of a tiny genius very soon.'"_

This caption was accompanied by a recent photograph of Molly with a large arrow pointing to her barely noticeable baby bump. Sherlock was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth; John could tell he was furious the one thing in his life that brought him happiness, besides the cases, had been tainted by the paparazzi. John had nearly finished reading now but he had a feeling he just discovering the root of Sherlock's anger.

_"'Let's hope he does the honourable thing soon. I wonder what a Sherlock Holmes wedding would look like. I'll certainly have a front row seat. Story by Kitty Riley.'_…wow!"

Sherlock nodded and span wildly on the spot, his hands under his chin. It wasn't over yet as Sherlock gestured to a small section of the newspaper. John read the larger font at the corner of the page, immediately wishing he didn't: SECRET SEX TAPE? John raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat uncomfortably, glancing at the text in the box.

_"'The consulting detective is not as prim and proper as we are led to believe, a reliable source informs. Secret footage has emerged incriminating Sherlock Holmes and his mystery girl in several compromising positions. We are yet to receive comments from the participants themselves-' _Sherlock, I'm sorry but…did you _really_-"

"Certainly. There is no way the paparazzi got their hands on it, though. I have the only copy."

Sherlock seemed pleased with himself and John wished he had stayed with Mary last night. Sherlock shook his head vigorously before rounding on John.

"Ok…so what did that tell us?"

John raised his eyebrows and glanced towards the paper, a feeling of annoyance settling inside.

"Um…I'm changing my newspaper."

Sherlock smirked but quickly dropped it, shaking his head dramatically.

"No. Molly would have no doubt read about this…her expectations will be much more alert now. I have to inform her I do not want marriage. Throw her off the scent, for now."

John blinked wildly as Sherlock settled himself onto the sofa.

"W-what? Sherlock, be careful how you do it…you might lose her if she thinks she's in a relationship that's not going anywhere."

Sherlock smirked to himself and turned to John with a pleased smile.

"Yes…but you and I are both awarethis relationship is going to last forever. For better, for worse…I just have to ensure she's not expecting it."

John shook his head in defeat as Sherlock jumped to his feet and went to his bedroom to dress. **Oh, Sherlock…please, don't screw this up.**

* * *

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about…I'm just trying to work…there is nothing between me and Sherlock Holmes…and who asks a colleague if they made a sex tape with someone else? That's none of your business…_no _it didn't happen…so please leave…"

Sherlock scowled furiously as he heard Molly's annoyed voice echoing out of the lab; from what he could gather, there was already a small group of people questioning her. Straightening his coat, Sherlock strolled forwards and pushed the doors open, immediately encountering silence. He cleared his throat and nodded once, a subtle smirk settling onto his lips.

"Dr. Hooper."

Sherlock flicked his eyes to the small group of nurses – they had begun fiddling with their hair and giggling pathetically, swivelling their eyes from the detective to the pathologist – before returning his gaze to Molly who nodded and smirked.

"Mr. Holmes…I haven't seen you in a while…"

Sherlock smirked widely, turning in the stool he had occupied. **This is too good to resist.**

"Now, Doctor, surely you recall? We spoke last night, I was examining a body…with your assistance, of course."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and it was now Molly's turn to smirk. The nurses were glancing at each other, shrugging in confusion.

"Ah, yes, I do now that you mention it. Although, I don't remember much speaking involved."

Sherlock released a deep breath and turned to the nurses, drumming his fingers impatiently.

"Isn't it time you returned to work? I am sure Dr. Stamford wouldn't be pleased if he was aware his staff were away from duty," some of the nurses swallowed whilst others smirked cheekily, wiggling their eyebrows. A look form Sherlock, however, had them making rather hasty exits, too stunned to speak. Sherlock reached the door and called after them, "I wouldn't believe everything you read in the papers, ladies…" he gently closed the door behind him and slowly turned to his pathologist with a small grin, "…even if on the rare occasion they happen to be true."

Molly smiled and approached her detective, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek affectionately. Sherlock held her gently and smiled softly until she pulled away, walking back to her bench.

"I'm sorry. I should have seen the press would target you sooner or later."

Molly giggled and rolled her eyes with a slight shake of her head.

"Come on, Sherlock. I have been expecting this for some time now. I am just surprised it managed to stay away from the public eye that long."

Sherlock nodded, secretly relieved she wasn't upset. Then again, Sherlock had never met anyone as understanding as Molly.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry but I have to work through lunch and I-"

"No problem. I'll bring you something. The food here isn't up too much but desperate times. Molly, call me if you need anything…usually I prefer texts, but you are the only person I'd answer calls to."

Sherlock winked and placed a tender kiss to her forehead before hurrying towards the cafeteria. Molly released a dreamy sigh, thinking how lucky she was to have Sherlock.

* * *

Sherlock sighed irritably; the cafeteria was oddly crowded and there were many people throwing him confused looks, probably because they had never seen him queue for food before. A slightly shorter man joined the queue behind Sherlock; quick observation told him the man was a neurologist that only had time to grab a quick snack before returning to duty…and he was a whistler, which irritated the detective. The man paused his stupid noises and frowned.

"Hey, you're Sherlock Holmes, right?"

Sherlock ignored the man who persisted nevertheless.

"Are the papers true? Are you and Doctor Hooper shagging?"

Sherlock sighed and turned to the doctor, shrugging.

"I am certain that is none of your concern…and I am never wrong."

Sherlock attempted to move away, but the doctor's voice sounded again.

"Hey, I've been putting my best moves to Dr. Hooper for the last few months…how the hell did _you _manage it?"

Sherlock smirked as he moved away from the doctor. After paying for Molly's lunch, he moved towards the doors and couldn't resist turning back to the doctor.

"You know," everyone had turned to look at him and Sherlock smirked; he was not going to reveal anything like this, "I do not know who this Kitty Riley is but I can assure all of you, the truth will soon be revealed."

**In about six months. **Sherlock shivered; he was adamant his baby was not going to be a celebrity. Mycroft was the least of his problems, though, as he had to convince Molly of his 'hatred' of marriage.

* * *

A whole month! It had taken Sherlock one whole month…just to discover the courage to confront Molly about his plan. He had been distracted, though. Now, at the sixteenth week of pregnancy, Molly had moved past the morning sickness stage and her cravings were stronger than ever. John had now moved in with his fiancée, causing Sherlock major boredom during the day when Molly was at work. However, due to Molly's increased sex drive and Sherlock's intense lust for his girlfriend, they wasted no time in christening every room in the flat. Sherlock and John still met up on the odd occasion to solve cases but retreated to their now separate lives outside of work; John had a wedding to plan and Sherlock a baby. As John and Mary's wedding plans progressed so did Sherlock and Molly's preparations. Molly had also moved away from her normal, nice fitting clothes and started preferring the stylish and roomier clothes his mother had helped pick for her. Sherlock would often bring her lunch now and smirk if he caught her wandering around without her shoes on.

Molly returned from work that evening, clutching a bag of fries from a takeaway she had passed and paused at the door of 221B. She could hear shouting from inside, followed by the sound of something dropping to the floor. Molly swallowed and carefully opened the door, bursting into a fit of giggles at the sight that greeted her. Sherlock was frowning at a pile of tools and materials on the floor, muttering to himself. Molly cleared her throat and Sherlock jumped to his feet.

"Are you building a cot?"

"No…I am _trying _to build a cot."

Sherlock abandoned his hopeless efforts at basic building technique as Molly giggled softly and stepped forwards, gently brushing bits of sawdust from his curly hair. He stood and Molly glanced down at the half-finished cot, smiling sweetly. She suddenly felt her greasy food being snatched away from her and Sherlock tossed the item into the bin, tutting at her. Molly bit her lip.

"_You _are not supposed to eat that."

Molly shrugged, fiddling with her hands and Sherlock's breath caught. **It's now or never. **Seizing his opportunity, Sherlock took Moly's hand and sat her onto the sofa, tapping his foot uncontrollably.

"Molly, I wanted to discuss marriage," Molly blinked several times and Sherlock cursed his inability to 'sugar-coat', "I am not fond of the idea."

He bit his lip tightly, surprise hitting him as Molly let out a relieved sigh and throwing her arms around him.

"I am so glad to hear you say that, not that I expected you ever to propose. I am just glad you're where I am," Sherlock nodded, unable to believe Molly never wanted marriage anyway, "besides, can you imagine us as a married couple?" Molly released a small snort and Sherlock bit his lip tighter, shaking his head in disbelief, "come on, we don't need a piece of paper and a pair of rings to declare our love, do we?"

"No…my…my thoughts exactly."

Molly nodded, patting Sherlock gently on the back as he mentally kicked himself. **Well, that backfired. **Molly gasped suddenly and Sherlock was all too aware as too why; they had jumped apart due to a large jolt that had occurred between them. Placing their hands to Molly's stomach, she beamed and whispered to Sherlock.

"Did you feel that?"

Sherlock nodded, unable to hide his smile, as they waited for something, anything. Sherlock settled against the cushions; the little one didn't seem to like the movement for it kicked once more, causing excited giggles from Mummy and tighter grips and protective kisses from Daddy. Molly was soon pulling him gently to the bedroom, eager to get a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, such luxury was not going to come to the detective; convincing Molly he didn't want marriage may have been the biggest mistake of his entire life…

* * *

_Wow…that was quite long and I apologise :) Thank you so much for reading, I love you all so much for making this story what it is :') I hope you enjoyed it…now, as for next it's the wedding day! You haven't missed anything, I'm going to do a month by month wedding preparation thing, putting as much detail in as possible so you DON'T miss anything :D xx Set your alarms, folks, next is volcano day…or the wedding day ;) Baby Holmes will be here soon, also ;) Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	9. The Big Day

**_For better, For worse, _**

**_For richer, For poorer…_**

* * *

Sherlock woke up early, busying himself with preparing Molly's breakfast – toast, orange juice and, much to his discomfort, jam – trying not to dwell on the conversation he and Molly shared last night. **Well…I succeeded, I suppose. Molly's right, we do not need rings to show our love. Although, Molly Holmes does sound wonderful. **Shaking his head and moving into the living room,Sherlock sighed irritably when he noticed the paper on the floor with another exaggerated story printed on the front page. The picture this time was of himself and John with a wavy line separating them. Rolling his eyes, Sherlock braced himself.

IS THIS THE END OF THE DYNAMIC DUO?

_Between wedding plans and baby drama, it seems John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are seeing less and less of each other-_

"Morning. What's she saying this time?"

Sherlock shook his head and threw the paper to John, allowing him to catch up; John often came by to hang out or to check on Molly. He chuckled slightly at the heading and moved to the sofa, speaking in a low voice so as not to wake Molly; he didn't want _another_ lecture from Sherlock about Molly needing her sleep.

"Well, one thing's for sure…this Kitty Riley needs new sources. She clearly doesn't know we're all meeting up to discuss the wedding..." John glanced towards the detective who had moved to the window and was avoiding John's gaze. John swallowed, "so…how did it go?"

Sherlock shrugged and also kept his voice low; he had started pacing. John bowed his head and settled into the cushions. **Not good?**

"Very well. Rather too well, in fact. Molly doesn't want marriage."

John tutted and folded his arms, fixing the rather frustrated looking Sherlock with a relaxed stare.

"Come on, Sherlock. What woman doesn't want to marry the man they love? She probably didn't know what else to say."

"I hope you are correct."

* * *

Molly was sitting up in bed, surrounded by pillows; Sherlock was, once again, adamant she was completely comfortable. Molly bit her lip as she waited for Mary to answer her phone. She had to talk to her, get her advice.

"_Hello?"_

"Mary, hi. Listen-"

_"Morning, Mol. How are you feeling?"_

Molly sighed in frustration before relaxing, a small smile on her face and her free hand caressing her bump.

"Well…my muscles ache, my feet are killing me and my back is sore but apart from that…I'm excited more than anything…"

_"You ought to be careful…all that work can't be good for you…"_

Molly sighed and tilted her head as her neck was growing stiff.

"You sound like Sherlock. Don't worry, I'm fine…"

Mary rolled her eyes and swallowed nervously as Molly continued what she was saying before the interruption.

"Anyway, I need your advice. Sherlock told me last night he didn't want to get married…"

Mary bit her lip and hesitated before mumbling 'mhmm'. She, of course, knew this; John kept nothing from her. Molly frowned but continued nevertheless, leaning further back into the pillows.

"I didn't know what else to say…so I told him neither did I. What do I do?"

Mary shook herself. **No…I promised John. I've done this before, opened my big mouth and almost destroyed my friendship with Molly not to mention her entire relationship. This one I am staying out of…**

_"Um…well…you still love him, right?"_

"Yes. Always. No matter what."

Mary nodded to herself. **I'm sorry, John.**

_"Oh, Molly…I promised I wouldn't say…but he does want to marry you. Of course he does…but you know Sherlock's brain. Weird…genius, certainly but weird. He wanted it to be a surprise…he thought that story would make you wary."_

Molly was grinning broadly as happy tears filled her eyes. **Oh, thank god. **Sometimes, Mary's inability to keep secrets was quite good. She glanced down lovingly at her hand and rounder stomach and could do nothing to stop the smile.

_"Molly…are you alright? Did I do the right thing?"_

"Yes. Yes, I am fine. Thank you, Mary. I'll see you at lunch later."

_"Yeah! Can't wait. I'll see you then…I've got a surprise for you!"_

Molly hung up the phone and smiled widely for a moment, staring at her bump with a shake of her head.

"Oh, I love your daddy so much."

* * *

John lifted his head to see Sherlock pacing carefully, avoiding all of the creaky floorboards. He spoke in a quiet whisper, avoiding John's gaze.

"Have you made any plans at all yet?"

John bit his lip and ran a nervous hand through his hair. Sherlock ignored this; a nervous habit. **But, why-**

"Well…yeah, actually. I've got my best man in mind. He just needs to agree…"

Sherlock nodded, pondering who on Earth John could have selected at this early stage. **Lestrade? Do they get on that well? John has no brothers. Does he perhaps get on with a brother of Mary's? She doesn't have any, so-** Sherlock stopped suddenly when he became aware John was staring intently at him as though waiting for an answer. Then, it hit him…

"Me?"

"It goes without saying, doesn't it?"

Sherlock shook his head and settled into his chair, drumming his fingers agitatedly.

"John…I am flattered but I cannot. You should find someone more deserving."

John blinked in confusion before shaking his head, grinning broadly.

"Don't worry…we'll spare you the speech. It's not mandatory, it's _our _day, Sherlock…besides," the detective looked unsure, a deep frown on his face and John began tapping his knee subconsciously, sighing irritably, "…I'm not getting married without my best man."

Sherlock glanced at his friend; he had never seen him looking so sure of anything before, apart from the night he had met Mary. Sherlock swallowed and nodded slowly, an overwhelming number of emotions rushing to him.

"Thank you."

John smiled widely and gave a short nod. Sherlock gave a weak half-smile, still coming to terms with accepting his emotional side. There were a few moments of awkward silence until the bedroom door swung open and Sherlock narrowed his eyes. **Hmmm…I suppose she can have a nap later if she wishes. **Molly noticed her breakfast on the table and the happy tears filled her eyes once more. She saw Sherlock looking at her, love and sincere concern in his eyes even though she was a swollen mess, wearing an oversized shirt and startlingly pink pyjama bottoms. It was too much…

"You should be-"

Sherlock's sentence was cut short because Molly had rushed forwards and kissed him tenderly, pouring every ounce of her love into such a small gesture. John smiled sweetly as Molly pulled away and, apparently, rendered Sherlock speechless. Molly ruffled his messy hair gently as he placed a loving kiss to her stomach.

"Thank you."

Molly moved into the kitchen and Sherlock cleared his throat, mumbling 'it's only breakfast' to himself. John turned towards Molly, grinning broadly.

"Sherlock's my best man, Molly…"

Molly frowned, pausing midway through spreading more jam on her toast – Sherlock frowned at this action; he was still uncomfortable with the high sugar content in the product but didn't fancy facing the wrath of his pregnant girlfriend. She tilted her head to the side and shrugged.

"Uh…yeah, who else?"

John turned back to Sherlock with a smug expression on his face. He scowled at his cocky looking friend, secretly feeling very moved that he had no competition whatsoever.

The lunchtime planning was rather successful. Molly had promised to stay away from greasy foods on the condition that Sherlock ate _something_; it was the little things like this that showed how much they cared for each other and John was happy for them. Mary had designated Molly to be her maid of honour, much to an over-emotional Molly's delight; Sherlock found himself wondering if she would have still cried if she hadn't been pregnant. They had also arranged a venue and a date. As a wedding present, the Holmes family had declared they use their large estate situated in the countryside. Sherlock was adamant there was to be no arguments; this was apparently a load off of the couple's minds as they didn't have to waste time with costs, availability and bookings. The date was to be July 15th, warmer weather and close to summer; perfect honeymoon conditions. Things were finally going right for everyone which was, perhaps, what worried Sherlock indefinitely…

* * *

**_1 month later – Location, Location, Location (& 20 weeks)_**

The wedding plans were well under way now. Sherlock had managed to blackmail Mycroft into helping with setting up the decorations and marquee in the grounds. The theme was to be white and gold and Mycroft found himself very much looking forward to his responsibilities. Molly was now also noticeably pregnant indeed, and Sherlock would let everyone who asked know about it. Molly enjoyed the pride he seemed to get by claiming responsibility of her rounder figure. According to him, now it was apparent he was going to be a father, Kitty Riley could write what she pleased and he couldn't care less. Sherlock found himself busier than ever, though, as Molly's new figure meant that she could no longer put on her own shoes and he also found himself massaging her sore muscles – these were tasks he would never admit he didn't find unpleasant. It had been the eighteenth week of Molly's pregnancy, though, the couple had been painfully distracted from the excitement of the wedding.

It had been late afternoon, Sherlock was working on a case and had arrived at Bart's to 'study some samples', despite not having a case; everyone knew it was because he wanted to be near Molly. Molly had disappeared to the lab to retrieve the results of her autopsy. She had suddenly burst into the morgue, fear and panic written on her face which grabbed Sherlock's attention immediately. He abandoned his experiment and rushed over to her tear-stained face, noticing she was holding in her shaky hands a blood-stained cloth. There was a substantial amount of blood and Molly was hysterical.

"I-I didn't…know w-what it was…I-I was in so much…p-pain…I w-went to the bathroom…and-"

"We are going upstairs."

Sherlock was already pulling his distraught girlfriend from the room, his own mind trailing to things he'd rather not think about. Fearing the worst, as you would of course, they waited impatiently to be seen by their expert.

"I'm…scared, Sherlock…what if-"

"No. Don't. Everything will be alright. I…too am terrified."

Sherlock had done his best to calm Molly, even if he felt sick to his stomach. Molly felt very reassured when he was near and knowing he was just as scared gave her strength. **It's going to be alright.** She was frantic as Sherlock held her tightly. Finally, they were shown inside…

"Ok, Miss Hooper…let's take a little look at junior, shall we?"

Molly nodded nervously and glanced towards Sherlock; he was clenching and unclenching his fists as he paced the room at speed. The doctor ran the ultrasound machine over Molly's stomach and pursed his lips. Molly whimpered and Sherlock strolled over, grasping her hand tightly which immediately calmed her. The doctor prodded and poked here and there, asking various questions and making notes. After the most heart wrenching few minutes of Sherlock and Molly's lives, the doctor shook his head.

"Well…I can't see anything wrong with the little one," Molly released the breath she didn't know she was holding and, overcome with emotion, Sherlock dropped his head to her shoulder, relief washing over him, "…although, I cannot say for certain what caused it. My advice to you would be to get plenty rest and avoid manual labour for the remainder of your pregnancy. Please contact me if there are any complications."

Molly nodded as she righted her clothing and Sherlock shook the doctor's hand. In the corridor, Sherlock embraced Molly very gently as though scared she would break. Molly softly caressed his hair, desperately trying to remain strong, and whispered into skin.

"Hey…we're alright."

She felt Sherlock nod slowly before he began racing back downstairs. Molly blinked in confusion before hastily following after him; he had marched into Mike's office and was talking to him rather sternly. Molly frowned and pressed her ears to the door, faintly hearing Mike's stammering and Sherlock's deep orders. When he returned, he grinned at Molly.

"I have secured your maternity leave."

Molly smiled back, making a mental note to apologise to Mike for the harshness with which he was spoken to; it wasn't his fault after all. Molly was pleased she could now relax the remainder of her pregnancy but there was still the worry that had been placed upon them that day.

Sherlock and Molly had decided against telling John and Mary about their incident, not wanting to cause them extra stress and worry. They were planning to meet them today at the Holmes estate to have a look around and plan the arrangements. Sherlock and Molly were the first to arrive, much to Daphne's pleasure. They could faintly see Mycroft sporting a high-tech headset in the distance, speaking to someone Sherlock assumed sorted wedding stuff. Sherlock scoffed to himself, rolling his eyes at his over-practical sibling.

"Molly, dear…you look beautiful…," Daphne had bustled forwards, embracing the woman carrying her grandchild. Sherlock frowned at his overbearing mother as she elbowed him in the ribs. "I hope you're looking after her…I ate like a horse with Mycroft. Your father had to make sure I didn't eat too much crap, though…"

Molly bit back her smirk; somehow, she knew Sherlock had received this trait from his own father. Sherlock scowled at his mother, hating the small feeling of embarrassment she bestowed upon him and ignored her as he moved inside, approaching Mycroft who held up the hand that wasn't pressed to his ear. Sherlock frowned deeply and glanced behind him; Molly had stayed behind to talk to his mother and Sherlock would possibly never understand why they got on so well. Sherlock turned back as Mycroft finished his conversation and grinned at his brother.

"Ah, Sherlock…I am sorry, I was attending to some important wedding matters. Where is the happy couple?"

Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes darting over his brother.

"Not here yet, obviously. How is your correspondence with Kitty Riley?"

Mycroft's eyes widened, fiddling with his hands as he licked his lips softly.

"Sherlock…like myself, Miss Riley has her sources."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and forced a smile onto his face as his mother entered with Molly. Daphne smiled and patted Mycroft fondly on the arm.

"I'm glad you're getting on. John and Mary just arrived. They're looking around outside the garden."

"Yes, Mummy. They're going to love it here."

Sherlock mimicked his brother childishly behind his mother's back and his arm wound around Molly as she snuggled into him. Molly giggled softly; the events of two weeks ago had faded to something of a horrible nightmare and their excitement was setting in again. Their minds occasionally drifted to the 'what if' area of that situation but, luckily, they had each other to pull them through it. John and Mary moved into the entrance hall of the large, breath-taking building and sighed happily.

"It's wonderful, Mrs. Holmes…perfect in every way. Are you sure you don't mind us using it?"

Daphne rolled her eyes and waved her hands dismissively, a wide smile on her face.

"What is it with you people and manners? You are friends with my sons, are you not? It's Daphne, dear, and of course not. I'm not getting much use out of it these days. Neither of my boys tends to visit me, anyway."

**Ah, the guilt trip. I wondered when that was coming. **Sherlock released a bored deep breath and Mycroft bowed his head in guilt. Molly noticed Sherlock was getting rather fidgety and gave his arm a supportive squeeze. Mary beamed excitedly, shocked at how different Daphne Holmes was from her sons, and John nodded gratefully in her direction. The rest of the day was spent organising what was going where and who was sitting next to whom. John was, obviously, going to be supported by Sherlock whilst Mary had selected Molly as her maid of honour and two other bridesmaids; her older sister, Jeannie Morstan and Chloe Simmonds, an extremely shy friend of hers and Molly's from school. The marquee was going to be placed at the top of the large garden, lined with rows and rows of decorative seats and flowers that Mycroft was preparing. The guest list had been drawn up – well, a draft, they still had to make and send the invitations as well as wait for replies. For now, though, as they ate a delicious meal at the Holmes' intricate dining table, Mary and John were pleased to have the most difficult part of their planning sorted out. They couldn't wait to be married.

* * *

**_1 month later – Food, Fabric and Frivolity (24 weeks)_**

Everyone was well and truly busy now with arrangements for the impending Watson-Morstan nuptials. Sherlock had rejected case offers in favour of tending to the now rather large framed Molly. One day, he had entered the bedroom and stopped in his tracks. Molly was examining herself in the mirror and turning in different angles, smoothing her nightdress over her large stomach and sighing dreamily. She caught Sherlock staring and slumped her shoulders.

"Look at me…I'm huge…"

Sherlock swallowed and approached her, placing both of his hands over her stomach. He felt the familiar sensation of the baby's kick; this often happened when he spoke or touched her stomach. Every time, he felt a lump in his throat, reminding him painfully that he almost lost it all. **Stop that. This…this is happening. You and Molly are going to be parents. You'll have it all soon. **Shaking his head, Sherlock met her eyes and nodded.

"Yes, you are…and you look beautiful."

Molly smiled and kissed him softly, resting her head against his chest. She listened to his heartbeat, and his deep voice filled her ears.

"No matter what…promise me, Molly…please, don't leave me…now I have this…I don't want to lose it by…'being myself'…"

Molly pulled back and cupped his chin gently. She swallowed and blinked away the tears in her eyes.

"I am not going anywhere…not when I have a gorgeous boyfriend and a beautiful baby on the way…do you understand?"

Sherlock nodded and breathed in her calming scent, reminding himself all the while that she was real.

"Oh, and one more thing…" Sherlock mumbled an acknowledgement and met Molly's soft brown gaze, "…never change…I love you for who you are. Socially awkward and perfectly clever…"

Sherlock chuckled and held her; his mind palace was undergoing some serious refurbishments.

A few weeks ago, Molly had returned from shopping with Mary to find Sherlock frowning intently at the spare bedroom before shaking his head and pulling her into the room. Molly blinked in confusion and her eyes widened in shock as she saw…everything was ready. The cot was assembled in the corner, assorted toys were packed away in appropriate boxes and the babygros were draped across the rocking chair in the corner. Molly turned to see Sherlock staring straight ahead, unblinking.

"It just needs to be painted now. I wanted to wait until we knew. Colours."

He gestured around and scowled in the direction of the cot. Molly imagined he had found that most difficult. Judging by the small plasters on his hands, she had been correct. **Aww…he's so sweet. When he wants to be, anyway.**

"It's perfect…when did you do it?"

Sherlock bit back as grin as Molly threw her arms around him; his hands settled onto her stomach as they always did.

"When you and Mary were shopping for outfits…"

Molly opened her eyes in realisation. She was meeting Mary to finalise her decision; she believed she had found the perfect dress and needed to select the ones for her bridesmaids. After dressing hurriedly in smart yet loose clothes, Molly kissed him on the forehead – he was slipping into his mind palace – and darted out of the flat to the bridal shop…but not before turning back and adding:

"It's probably best to remove those splinters…plasters won't do anything…"

Molly giggled to herself as she faintly heard Sherlock swear and turn on his side in a sulk.

"Molly, nice of you to join us."

Mary's voice had sounded behind the screen she was changing. Molly bit her lip guiltily and settled herself between Jeannie and Chloe, nodding towards them. Chloe gave a small wave and Molly placed her bag on the floor, collapsing gratefully onto a chair. She ran her hands across her large stomach, earning herself some eye-rolls from Jeannie: it was no secret she fancied Sherlock, despite being married herself.

"Yeah, sorry…"

Mary rolled her eyes and examined herself in the mirror. **This is the one.**

"Oh, it's beautiful."

Mary stepped out of the curtains and delighted in her friend's mouths dropping to the floor. **Yes, this ****_is _****Mrs. Mary Watson. **The shop assistant started to move around Mary, beaming proudly and speaking in a posh, authoritative voice.

"Yes. The one-piece, strapless, A-line gown with button over zipper closure is a beautiful piece indeed. Beaded lace accents the bodice and the bustled Sonata Taffeta skirt. The fabric is intricately designed with lace and Taffeta with a custom made size to those that…" she glanced snobbishly towards Molly, "…require it. The colours we have available for this dress are champagne, ivory, pink and light gold. At a mere £289.00-"

"How much?"

Chloe's high pitched, shrill voice leapt upon the woman's ears and she frowned deeply over her small glasses. Mary waved her hand dismissively, twirling around happily.

"Oh, John said it's fine. My budget is £7,500, but I gave most of that to Mycroft. I think I'll take it."

"An excellent choice Madame."

As Mary disappeared to remove the dress, the shop assistant bustled over to the till to prepare for Mary's purchases. Jeannie spoke up in order for her sister to hear; she was eerily familiar to her younger sister, especially her smile.

"Did you get a windfall then sis?"

Mary chuckled and the group watched as the curtain swished around as Mary re-dressed herself.

"I wish. No, this is courtesy of the consulting detective and the doctor. Apparently, some posh tart was doing the butler and she got him to do in her husband. She was planning to sell this vase worth fifteen grand so they could run away together. It was his vase, see."

Mary trailed off as she tutted loudly, muttering 'stupid zip'. Molly cleared her throat, turning to the group of girls.

"The husband's family were so grateful, they gave the vase to Sherlock as a reward. He sold it and split the money with John. My clever detective…he told me I helped solve that case. He would never have understood the love motive if it hadn't been for me…"

Molly winked at Jeannie who huffed silently whilst Chloe stared in awe. Jeannie turned to Molly suddenly and smiled wickedly.

"Sherlock said that?"

Molly swallowed and shrugged.

"Yes…he said he solved it because he finally knows what love is…"

Even Jeannie melted at this comment and Chloe looked on the verge of tears; she was the only single one of the group of friends. Mary, having won the battle with her jeans, returned from the curtain and grinned broadly, biting her lip excitedly.

"Look what I've got…"

She pulled out a lovely looking gown, deep gold and flowing to the floor beautifully. Her friends giggled excitedly, rushing forwards to take one to try on. Molly lingered slightly, rubbing her swollen stomach. Mary sighed and approached her, wiggling the bridesmaid dress at her.

"Come on…they can alter it for you…"

Molly grinned and took it; as the wedding wasn't for another four weeks they agreed it was best to wait to have it altered. Molly admired Mary's taste, it was beautiful and everything was going to look perfect.

Whilst Mary was organising the outfits, John had been put in charge of co-ordinating the menu and music. He grumbled to himself, frustrated as he tried to decide what to have.

"You could help me you know…"

Sherlock, who was in his mind-palace pose, sighed deeply and fixed his friend with a frustrated stare.

"It is obvious the music choice should be something both you and Mary enjoy…as for the food, I do not need to remind you Molly is-"

"Yes, Sherlock I know. Anyway, the food isn't an issue. Your mum's sorting it for us. Apparently, she's quite the expert chef."

Sherlock hummed in agreement as he settled into the cushions.

"Yes, well…you only have to look at Mycroft to see that…"

John laughed and shook his head, burying himself in playlists. After many hours of scribbling and mind-changing, he had decided on a variety of music to play at their reception and to walk down the aisle to. He leaned back in his chair, rolling his stiff shoulders and rubbing his eyes. He noticed Sherlock hadn't moved or spoken once.

"Oh, by the way…did you send the invitations?"

Sherlock frowned and turned to John, an offended look on his face.

"Of course. Despite what you might think, John, I am taking my new responsibilities very seriously."

John nodded respectfully and looked at his watch. **It's getting late. **John mumbled his goodbyes and departed for his home to his fiancée. Sherlock opened his eyes at the slamming door, removing from his pocket a small, velvet box. Smirking, Sherlock quickly shoved it away as he heard the door open. Molly staggered inside, slipping her coat from her shoulders and collapsing into the chair, her feet coming to rest on the coffee table. She noticed Sherlock's apparently overjoyed expression and eyed him suspiciously.

"You look happy. What have you been up to?"

Sherlock did nothing except smirk softly in her direction, gesturing for her to join him on the sofa. Molly got to her feet and settled next to him, snuggling into his arms as he brushed his fingers across her stomach.

"Nothing. I am just excited."

Molly tilted her head back against his shoulder and shook her head, grinning widely herself. She couldn't wait either. Sherlock gently smoothed over his trouser pocket. **All in good time.**

* * *

**_July 15_****_th_****_, The Big Day (28 weeks)_**

John awoke in a room in the Holmes estate; he had returned from his stag night late last night. To anyone else, it wasn't very exciting. Sherlock hadn't planned anything special, much to Lestrade's annoyance. They had ended up drinking and playing cards. The Holmes' brothers appeared too distracted to join in all night; Mycroft had been checking last minute arrangements and Sherlock spent all night on his phone texting. John didn't need to be a consulting detective to discover who he had been texting and, sure enough, when Sherlock disappeared to the bathroom, John discovered pages and pages listing drinks Molly had consumed on Mary's hen night. They were all non-alcoholic much to Sherlock's relief; he was aware of Jeannie's tendency to apply peer pressure. Halfway into the evening, they noticed Mycroft had disappeared and but they didn't seemed to mind very much.

John rubbed his eyes and glanced at his suit, beaming widely; he had shared an argument with Sherlock the previous night about whether the detective should wear a tie or not. John lost much to Sherlock's joy; he was already being forced to wear a waistcoat. John began to get ready early, the same thing running through his mind. **11:30 today and you're no longer a single man, John. An exciting thought, indeed.**

Sherlock was awake early that morning also, staring intently at his own suit with a groan. **Why on Earth did Mary select waistcoats? **He rolled his eyes as he could already hear his mother instructing the kitchen staff of their duties for today. Carefully stepping towards the door, he pulled it open and stepped into the cool hallway. The creaking of a door at the end of the hall caused Sherlock to turn around and raise his eyebrows. He watched with a slight frown as Mycroft crept along the hallway, apparently attempting to be discreet. Sherlock cleared his throat and Mycroft jumped.

"Hmmm…if I'm not mistaken, Mycroft, your bedroom is situated upstairs. That…" Sherlock gestured smugly towards the bedroom and delighted in the way his brother turned bright red, "…is Chloe Simmonds' room, Molly and Mary's friend from school. But, I guess you know her a little better than that…"

Sherlock smirked as Mycroft shuffled in the direction of his his head, Sherlock knocked once and moved into John's bedroom. The groom was unzipping the bags containing his suit when he entered and looked up to meet his gaze.

"I…wanted to wish you good luck…"

John blinked at the unusual comment and took Sherlock's extended hand; John was really pleased Sherlock was beginning to accept emotions and had embraced his softer side. He was still Sherlock, though, as John noticed him scowling at the offending waistcoat.

"It's charming…"

"It's ridiculous. It's as though someone attempted to make a jacket and stopped halfway…"

John giggled at this and Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back, confused. He shook his head and moved into his own room, to ready himself. Upon entering the room, he saw Molly examining her own dress with a sad expression.

"What's the matter?"

Molly shook her head, placing the dress carefully on the bed. Sherlock was fully prepared for what she was going to say.

"I'm going to look-"

"Lovely. How are you feeling?"

Molly shrugged, rubbing her very round stomach fondly.

"I get twinges now and then, but it's nothing to worry about…I think it's just nerves," she added the last part quickly as Sherlock's eyes widened. She didn't want to worry him for nothing.

Molly took great amusement in watching Sherlock dress in his elegant waistcoat, frowning dramatically and folding his arms like a child. She rolled her eyes as she threw on a simple shirt and maternity jeans; her dress was uncomfortable and it was only 9:00am. Bidding Sherlock goodbye, she headed to the 'bridal suite' or Daphne's bedroom at the front of the estate. Mary was already seated and getting her hair styled by Daphne's personal hairdresser; Jeannie and Chloe were yet to arrive. Molly seated herself in the corner and smiled fondly at her friend.

"Oh, Mary…you look lovely! Where's your dad? I thought he was coming down?"

Mary nodded, reaching forwards to sip her tea much to the hairdresser's annoyance.

"He's coming for the ceremony. He's already met John, so…"

Molly nodded and leaned back in her seat, discomfort settling in now. She clutched her stomach as she shifted, trying to get comfortable. Mary frowned.

"Hey, you ok?"

"Fine."

Molly rose her feet and moved desperately towards the sofa, collapsing into it. Mary frowned momentarily until the doors opened and Jeannie and Chloe tumbled into the large room, giggling manically. The hairdresser tutted and shook her head, tilting Mary's to the side. Jeannie suddenly burst into tears.

"Oh, Mary…you look lovely…"

Mary gave a gentle smile before shaking her head and glancing at her lap, mumbling 'stop, you'll start me off'. Molly glanced towards Chloe, who had a noticeably large grin on her innocent face.

"You look happy, Chloe…"

Chloe immediately wiped the smile off of her face, glancing at the floor as she glowed red. Mary raised her eyebrows, a cheeky smirk settling on her lips.

"Did you _finally _get some?"

Chloe lifted her eyes from the floor, her face noticeably redder. Jeannie giggled and nudged Mary; the vein in the hairdresser's head was beginning to throb.

"I'll say…she was all over him last night. Well, if you can't have the best looking Holmes brother…"

Jeannie trailed off in a fit of giggles at the scathing look Molly had thrown her. Chloe looked like a tomato when she finally mumbled, 'can we change the subject?'

When Mary's hair was at last ready, the excitable rabble had covered the topic of the impending baby Holmes, John and Mary's honeymoon location and Mycroft Holmes. Poor Chloe was humiliated further when Mycroft had entered the bedroom brazenly to return her bra to her; it had somehow ended up in his coat pocket. If Molly didn't know any better, she would have sworn she saw the slightest hint of pride.

It was near mid-morning when John's parents arrived at the posh location with Mrs. Hudson in tow. He showed them around before bustling away to finish getting ready himself. Bored out of his mind, Sherlock took to wandering the grounds of his estate, carrying out deductions on members of John and Mary's family. He was already dressed and was currently avoiding the attentions of Mary's single and less important friends. **I wish they'd hurry…and I hope Molly is taking it easy. **Mary's father had arrived and had immediately struck up a conversation with John's mother. Sherlock hadn't seen his mother since the previous evening and assumed she was still ordering the chefs around. He glanced at his watch. **Not long now…**

Finally, everyone had moved to the garden and sitting on the appropriate side Mycroft showed them to. Molly had squeezed into her dress now and was waiting with the other bridesmaids at the top of the aisle. She gasped as someone linked arms with her, relaxing immediately when she saw Sherlock standing proudly next to her. His eyes grazed over her; the dress editor had truly done a marvellous job. He noticed her simple plait falling in front of her shoulders and smiled genuinely.

"I knew I was right…you _are _beautiful…"

Molly looked over his body and raised her eyebrows; **how did John manage to convince him to wear a waistcoat?**

"Nice waistcoat…" Sherlock scowled and stared straight ahead and Molly giggled, "…you look beautiful too…"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and bit his lip, a thought occurring to him.

"John informed me it is customary for the best man to 'get off with' one of the bridesmaids…"

Molly smirked and glanced to the left of Sherlock, nodding in Jeannie's direction.

"She'll be pleased to hear that…"

Sherlock chuckled and clutched her arm tightly.

"Yes. A pity for her I am spoken for. Besides, she should have informed her husband of the wedding."

Molly grinned widely and nodded, her stomach twinging again. Gritting her teeth, Molly gripped his arm tightly. It was nearing half eleven now and John was standing at the front of the altar, fidgeting uncomfortably. Molly watched with interest as Lestrade approached Chloe, bowing and kissing her hand. Chloe giggled as he linked arms with her and the poor girl blushed madly. Sherlock's eyes wandered to his brother and he pursed his lips when he noticed him take Jeannie's arm rather regretfully and shoot Lestrade a piercing glare. Soft music began to sound across the grounds; Sherlock and Molly began to move down the aisle to meet John at the front, Molly opposite the two men and next to the minister. Lestrade and Chloe followed them and stopped at the front also followed by a rather furious looking Mycroft with Jeannie. Sherlock gave John a reassuring wink, nervously clasping his own hands behind his back. His expression remained calm and collected as always, though. Before any of them knew it, the music was playing – the classic wedding march – and Mary was moving swiftly through the aisle of gold and white balloons towards them, her father proudly on her arm. Once at the altar, her father kissed her cheek and presented her hand to John who took it, mesmerised by his fiancée's beauty. The garden fell quiet as the minister approached the podium.

"Dearly beloved…"

Searing pain shot to Molly's stomach and she clutched it reassuringly, wincing but immediately shaking it off and taking deep breaths. Luckily, no one seemed to notice; Sherlock was watching her curiously, though. The minister was speaking softly and slowly to the deliriously happy couple before him. Molly blinked away her disorientation as Sherlock stepped forwards, handing the rings over with a gentle smile. As the couple slipped their rings onto the other's fingers, Molly dropped the flowers she was holding, clutching her painful stomach. The couple's lips met softly and the rows of seats erupted into cheers and applause. Everything seemed to be going in slow-motion; Molly glanced down and shook her head, she became vaguely aware Sherlock was standing next to her, saying something incoherent and desperately trying to keep her upright. Sherlock noticed what she had too and was swallowing urgently.

Molly's waters had definitely broken.

"T-that's impossible…I-I'm only 28 w-"

Molly was cut off by searing pain again, desperately shaking her head as she desperately sucked in breaths. She felt Sherlock move away, not letting go of her hand. He had tapped John on the shoulder, who crouched next to Molly and checked her over. Daphne was panicking, spinning on the spot as she yelled desperately for a phone. Mycroft stepped forwards, pressing the earpiece to his face, his hands shaking uncontrollably. John had sat Molly on a chair and instructed her to control her breathing and Mary had busied herself in moving the gathering crowd of people away.

"The ambulance is on its way…"

Tears rolled down Molly's face as she gripped Sherlock's hand tightly, copying the breathing patterns he was demonstrating. Despite an overwhelming sense of fear and uncontrollable shaking, Sherlock promised himself he's remain strong for her.

"I'm…not…ready…_we're_…not…ready…"

Sherlock swallowed, not even daring to speak for he'd give away his own fear. Mary buried her face in her hands and John paced, checking his watch every ten minutes or so. After a short while, Daphne finally screamed at her eldest son.

"Did you tell them it was an emergency? I am not having my grandson born in my garden!"

Mycroft shrugged, for once utterly speechless. At last, the ambulance arrived and John filled them in on his observations, confirming Molly was indeed in labour. The ambulance raced to the hospital and Molly was hastily rushed into a delivery room. The midwives gathered around and instructed Molly on her breathing. taking samples and questioning her.

"Are you alright? You can step outside if-"

"Not a chance."

Sherlock shook his head, throwing his jacket into a chair as he came to stand behind Molly. He knew he was white as a sheet but he had to support her. He gripped her hands tightly and braced himself. The midwives were muttering to each other and nodding; Sherlock could determine they were thinking of emergency surgery. The rest of the information was lost as Molly's nails bit into his arms, another contraction causing her to cry out in pain. Sherlock watched as the hooked Molly up to heartbeat monitors and took various swabs.

"Please…do…something…anything…"

Sherlock was surprised at his own words; he was begging a higher power…something beyond his control. The midwife administered an epidural to Molly, ensuring Sherlock it wouldn't harm the baby. Molly whimpered and sobbed uncontrollably and Sherlock wrenched one of his arms from her vice-like grip. He began smoothing her sweaty forehead, murmuring encouragements. His legs were turning to jelly from the fear. Molly released another ear-splitting cry and Sherlock gritted his teeth tightly. A kindly midwife approached and smiled at the couple and began talking to them, announcing she was the chief midwife and was going to deliver the baby…right now. Molly's labour was too far advanced for emergency surgery and they had to do it now. Molly shook her head.

"No…I…I…can't…I…"

Sherlock blinked fiercely, his emotions were on the verge of spilling out. He sat her upright and slid his hands down her arms.

"We can do this…together…as we always have…"

Molly's plait was coming loose and her make-up was everywhere. She wound her arms around his and gripped him tightly.

"I'm…scared…Sherlock…"

The midwife turned to her prepared colleagues and gave a short nod; Sherlock could tell they were prepared for the worst. He wasn't. **So am I.**

"Ok, Molly, dear. When the next contraction comes, can you push for me?"

Molly nodded, bracing herself. Sherlock leaned against her shoulders, his emotions getting the better of him finally.

"Marry me."

Molly didn't have any time to say anything. Pain overtook her every fibre and her cries echoed off of the walls. Sherlock could feel the blood on his arms from Molly's nails but didn't care…he didn't care about anything until he knew they were fine. The midwife tilted her head and said something to her colleagues over her shoulder.

"OK, very good, Molly…and again for me…"

"I…I…can't…"

Sherlock's grip on her arms tightened as Molly threw her head back in agony, inadvertently catching him in the middle of his head. Pretty sure he was fighting to stay conscious, Sherlock shook his now bruised head and held her tightly as she pushed once more. After what felt like hours of pain and pushing, Molly collapsed against the stretcher, breathing heavily as the midwife sorted her out.

"Congratulations, Mr. Holmes, Miss Hooper. It's a boy."

Molly bit her lip, her head was heavy and her arms craved her son. Sherlock kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear.

"Thank you, Molly. You're wonderful. I have a son…"

Instead of pressing the infant into her arms, however, she carried him away and the crowd of midwives were working desperately on the opposite. Molly closed her eyes tightly and Sherlock gripped her hands.

"Is…something wrong?"

Molly shook her head, tears falling down her face once more. **He's not crying…why isn't he crying? **These were the most painful moments of their lives. Why was no-one talking to them? Was their son alright? The room was deafeningly quiet and for those few moments, Sherlock felt his own world slipping away from him. The one that had allowed him to love and the one he desperately needed.

"TELL US! IS HE ALRIGHT?"

Sherlock's voice cracked as he broke down, failing himself in his quest to stay strong for Molly who had already crumbled. The midwives remained silent as they worked to keep the baby boy's faint breathing from ebbing away…

* * *

**_In sickness and in health…_**

**_…until death do us part_**


	10. Baby Holmes

_Hello and welcome back. Firstly, I'd like to thank you all immensely for reading and reviewing this story :') I know you're probably tired of hearing it but I mean it…I am SO grateful you like it so much. As long as you like it, I'll keep writing so it really does mean the world :D Anyway, let's see how little Holmes is doing, shall we? ;)_

* * *

Silence.

That was the most painful thing to hear, right then. The midwives had been forced to take the young baby away immediately to undergo urgent treatment and the new parents were informed he was at high risk and they were doing their best; he was in the best hands, apparently. This wasn't what they had been hoping for, obviously; they ached for their son and they hadn't even been able to _see _him yet. Sherlock was in complete shock; he hardly registered himself and Molly being ushered into a private room, courtesy of Daphne to ensure privacy from the press. Their thoughts were not with them as they were left alone, Molly fighting sleep until she was sure he was going to be ok. Sherlock was pacing the small, sickeningly empty hospital room and it was starting to drive Molly mad.

"This doesn't…happen…why did this…happen to us…he…he's…Sherlock, please…he's going to be ok…I'm scared too…we've…we've got to be…strong. They're looking after him…he's alright…please…"

Sherlock didn't say anything, pacing furiously around the room clenching and unclenching his fists and buried deep in his thoughts. Molly leaned against the pillows behind her, her eyelids drooping but still refusing to sleep just yet; they were still red and puffy from her tears. She noticed his bloodied shirt and bruised head with a sympathetic wince.

"Oh, Sherlock…I'm sorry I hurt you…"

Sherlock glanced down at his arms and sighed softly, waving a dismissive hand. His waistcoat had been abandoned a while ago and his shirt and hair were both ruffled.

"You just gave birth and you're apologising to me? If anything, you should be verbally assaulting me…"

Molly tried to give a smile but it was hopeless in this circumstance so instead folded her agonisingly empty arms, not knowing what else to do with them. Sherlock seemed to be having the same problem as he couldn't decide whether or not to clasp his hands behind his back. Molly was yawning and rubbing her eyes when Sherlock sighed and shook his head.

"You're understandably exhausted. Go to sleep. I promise, once they inform me…you'll be immediately afterwards."

Molly tried to swat Sherlock away as he approached but when he sat himself next to her and rested her head against his shoulder, Molly found she was fighting a losing battle. Her sleepy voice reached his ears though, as he gently stroked her arm.

"He is…he's going…to be…alright, isn't he…Sherlock?"

Sherlock's voice caught in his throat, coming out strangled and pained.

"He…has to be."

Molly whimpered softly and Sherlock clutched her gently to him, stoking her softly as he held her. Sherlock cleared his throat and gazed down at the sweaty, beautiful mess that had just brought his son into the world.

"Molly," she made a noise of acknowledgement, her eyes failing to open through her tiredness. Sherlock swallowed and kissed her forehead, murmuring against her damp hair, "…I love you."

Molly would have been shocked if she wasn't so tired; she wasn't used to Sherlock saying this. Even though he didn't say it very often, Molly knew he meant it…and Sherlock knew she knew. This would always be enough for them…

* * *

Molly was now fast asleep and Sherlock had untangled himself gently, moving silently towards the door. He peered past the security outside the door and sighed when he saw Mycroft chatting to a reporter, Lestrade was biting his nails nervously in the seat next to him, Chloe and Jeannie were holding a worried conversation but Sherlock was mostly surprised to see the newlywed Watsons, hands entwined with the other. Sherlock approached slowly and Mycroft hurried the reporter away quickly. John and Mary jumped to their feet anxiously, Lestrade stopped biting his nails and also rose to his feet whilst Chloe and Jeannie exchanged nervous glances before excusing themselves. John raised his eyebrows at the blood on Sherlock's shirt as well as the large bruise on his forehead deciding to brush it off as the detective began wringing his hands.

"Molly's resting, she's…alright. But, they…uh…took him away. He's…he needs…he's not strong, of course…he might…"

Sherlock shook his head, finally deciding to clasp his hands behind his back; he hated this feeling of weakness that had fallen upon him since he arrived at the Hospital. Mycroft shook his head and mumbled something about joining his mother in the gift shop. John looked on the verge of tears as he spoke, his voice cracking; he would probably never understand how Sherlock was feeling right then – Sherlock _himself _wasn't even sure – and that made things even more difficult for John. He couldn't comfort his best friend.

"H-he?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yes…didn't I mention?"

Sherlock couldn't believe he had been so lost as to forget to mention he had a son. He shook his head suddenly and turned to the married couple, confusion in his expression amongst the pain.

"You should be on honeymoon."

Mary blinked in confusion and John bit his lip, shaking his head furiously. Sherlock frowned and folded his arms.

"How could we…go on honeymoon when…when…you know…"

Sherlock was shaking uncontrollably and was partially aware he was being lowered into the hospital chair behind him. John blinked rapidly; he hated seeing Sherlock like this, completely lost. **Maybe he should get some sleep…don't be stupid. He's not going to do that while his…son's ill.** Sherlock caught John's eye and swallowed; his nervous energy had converted itself into tapping his leg repeatedly. They were not sure when, but Lestrade had sensed it was getting rather personal and had left to join Mycroft and the bridesmaids.

"I am glad you are here. You can meet your godson much sooner, this way."

John and Mary's mouths fell to the ground as Sherlock clasped his hands under his chin, his eyes remaining wide open and staring straight ahead. He seemed expressionless but everyone knew there was a fierce battle raging inside. John shook his head and choked out-

"W-what-"

"It goes without saying, doesn't it?"

John couldn't help but grin widely and, despite how much he knew Sherlock hated it, embrace his friend as best as he could, putting as much emotion and support he could into the kind gesture. Sherlock blinked in confusion before awkwardly patting John on the back once, thankful for John's friendship. Mary was crying silently into a tissue, joining everyone in prayer for little baby Holmes.

Many painful hours of just sitting around waiting passed and Sherlock had barely moved the whole time; John was convinced he hadn't even blinked. Daphne and Mycroft had returned from the gift shop with armfuls of presents; teddy bears, cards, balloons and gift baskets were gathered in their arms. Mycroft stated most were gifts from the press trying to get an exclusive scoop to which John had snapped that maybe Mycroft should do his brother a favour and stop encouraging them. At this, Mycroft retreated to a corner and took to scowling in the direction of Lestrade and Chloe, who were conversing cosily opposite as they sipped coffee. Jeannie had approached Sherlock and sat herself cautiously next to him, placing her hand on his knee and whispering things he didn't even care about. Daphne raised her eyebrows and sighed; she had tried to warn her to leave him alone but Jeannie wouldn't listen. Sherlock didn't even seem to notice anyone else was in the room, anyway. After a while, she disappeared with a disappointed expression on her face; she had been so convinced she could get a response from him. After this, everyone agreed it would be best to just leave him be, something Daphne and John knew to do already. Many snacks and cups of coffee later, the door at the end of the corridor opened; this had been the only sound Sherlock had acknowledged for he was on his feet and approaching the doctor anxiously.

The doctor was wearing a solemn expression across his experienced face and Sherlock sucked in a sharp breath, he had been mentally preparing himself for the worst for the last few hours.

It hadn't worked.

From what Sherlock could tell of the doctor's body language and physical appearance – **tired, ruffled hair and clothes, recent coffee stain on his shirt above the left pocket, concerned yet not grave expression, working on only one coffee break, dedicated and caring **– he brought with him mixed news. He gestured towards their private room and Sherlock hesitated before taking a deep breath and stepping in quietly. It didn't matter anyway as Molly was already awake; the nurse had sat her up and she was currently twiddling her thumbs, waiting for him. Sherlock wasted no time in approaching her and clasping her hand, standing next to her.

"How are you feeling?"

Molly simply nodded, her eyes shining with tears. Sherlock took a deep breath and turned to face the doctor, who had been examining his notes curiously. He cleared his throat and cautiously approached them.

"It's good to see you awake and well, Miss Hooper but I'm sure you'll feel much better once you hear what I have to say…" Molly swallowed and Sherlock stiffened at the doctor's soft expression, "…I will not lie to you, at first, your son's chances of survival were minimal. However, in the last few hours he has shown an exceptional response to the emergency treatment…" the doctor gave a small smile as he watched the couple breathe their sighs of relief and embrace each other gently. Sherlock could almost feel a weight being lifted from his shoulders and Molly was sobbing softly. The doctor continued with a softer voice, "…unfortunately, due to the nature of his birth he is unable to breathe on his own at the moment and we will continue monitoring his progress until he is strong enough. I must say…it is very unlikely he will deteriorate. He is making remarkable progress and we shall inform you immediately when he is awake so you can meet your son."

Sherlock could hardly contain his overjoyed – not to mention relieved – smile and gratefully nodded at the kindly doctor. Molly was wiping her eyes, muttering her thanks over and over. Neither had experienced pain and heartache like this ever before and now it felt like everything was going to be alright.

"Thank you, Doctor…you have my gratitude forever."

The doctor nodded politely and left them alone. Sherlock was still breathing heavily, hardly able to believe he had nearly lost everything that several years ago he would have said he didn't even _want. _Molly was shaking, her sobs were subsiding as she looked up to see Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he was deep in thought.

"S-sherlock?"

Sherlock blinked and gave her hand a tight squeeze, glancing down at her.

"He's strong. A trait I believe he inherited from you. We'll be fine now."

Sherlock was shaking his head. **Why do I have this wonderful family? I don't deserve them. Why…it's too good to be true. **Molly gasped in pain as she felt a pinch to her arm, turning her heavy head to face Sherlock, who was still looking straight ahead.

"Did…you just _pinch _me?"

"I was checking you were real…ridiculous as it sounds."

Molly gave a watery smile and snuggled closer to him. Sherlock was now taking more relaxed and calmer breaths as he felt her close.

"Oh, Sherlock…you're perfect. Why won't you believe me?"

Sherlock bit his lip and shook his head gently; Molly could feel his heart racing through her hospital gown. He was stroking her hair softly and speaking just as gently.

"No one can possibly love someone like _me_."

Molly looked up at him; the way he had said the last word with such hatred made her heart sink. She reached up and cupped his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"Sherlock…if anyone in this world deserves love and a family, it's you. I don't care if sometimes you're bored, your personality is the best thing about you. I don't know _who _has made you believe this but I love you…John, Mary, Mrs. Hudson, Greg, Daphne…even _Mycroft_…we all love you. If you _still _don't believe me, then I'm sure _someone_ else will convince you."

Sherlock swallowed. **What if he doesn't ****_like _****me? I suppose I should be used to it…I just don't think I can handle that as well. **He pulled her back into him and breathed in her calming natural scent. Molly's breathy voice filled his ears once more.

"Can you do me a favour, Sherlock?" He nodded against her; Molly had, once again, rendered him speechless. Molly smiled softly, "…don't pinch the baby."

Sherlock gave a short chuckle, snuggling into her. **Maybe everything will be alright, after all.**

* * *

In waiting area, Sherlock was surprised to see only John and his mother who was talking to a man he didn't recognise. He approached John and wordlessly sat down heavily. He lifted his head from his arms as he noticed Sherlock occupy the seat next to him.

"Well…what did the doctor say?"

Sherlock gave a small smile and folded his arms across his chest.

"He…is doing well. Much better than expected and he should make a full recovery. You, of course, know this…" John frowned but before he could question him, Sherlock was giving him a knowing look, "…you are a medical man yourself, John. No doubt you asked the doctor to see the medical files. People do for some reason."

John shook his head, smiling incredulously. Sherlock leaned back in his chair.

"Amazing…even when you should be bad you're good…" Sherlock clasped his hands under his chin and John continued, "…I'm sorry, I couldn't wait…after the doctor left your room, I told him I was a professional, too and…"

John gestured awkwardly and Sherlock gave a reassuring smile.

"It is fine, John…you saved me a great deal of stress. I'd rather not relive the details."

John nodded understandingly and clapped his hands together awkwardly; he assumed Sherlock hadn't asked where everyone is because he already knew or had deduced it somehow. Sherlock released a bored sigh. **More waiting. **John cleared his throat and Sherlock opened his eyes slowly; he watched as his mother led the man she had been talking with down the hall until they disappeared into the private room.

"Um…any names yet?"

Sherlock tore his eyes away from the room and looked at the extremely uncomfortable doctor; he hated having nothing to say. Sherlock gave a very subtle shrug. John tapped his chin, his voice relaxing slightly.

"Well, some people like to name their children after the place they conceived-"

"I am not naming my son Bartholomew!" Sherlock's voice had sounded harsh and John, after recovering from shock, shook his head firmly.

"Uh…no…maybe not. Well…what about your dad or granddad?"

Sherlock scoffed turning away from John once more.

"My father's father? _Franklin_? No. My mother's father? Elijah? Molly likes it but…" Sherlock shook his head and continued, a scowl on his face, "…and as for _my _father, you can forget about that…I am not doing that…_monster_ any favours…"

John swallowed as he noticed pure hatred flash across his friend's expression and hastily changed the subject.

"Hmmm…what about Molly's?"

"She's already said no." Sherlock looked defeated and John folded his arms.

"What?" Sherlock bit his lip, staring straight ahead.

"Her grandfather? Edward. Ever since that terrible vampire movie she forced me to endure, I have been put off of that name. As for her father…Joseph…"

John frowned in confusion as Sherlock blinked rapidly, a more peaceful look settling on his face.

"What's wrong with that?" Sherlock gave another small smile at John's confused question and glanced towards the room again.

"…nothing…nothing at all…but like I said…Molly doesn't like it…I need to talk to her."

Without another word, Sherlock got to his feet and strode towards the private room, leaving a very confused John to shake his head and join Mary in the cafeteria. He pushed the door open and saw the man embrace a tearful Molly. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat; he expected the man to jump away from Molly with a fearful expression. Instead, he held his hand out to Sherlock.

"Hi…you must be Sherlock. Molly's told me all about you. If she's right about you…you can tell me who I am."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and sighed, slightly less concerned than he was before. **Muscly build, avid gym goer. Business type clothes, works in an office, most likely. Ah, of course…his duties with work mean he doesn't have much time to visit his younger sister. **Sherlock gave a small smile as he shook Molly's brother's hand.

"Of course, it's good to finally meet you…Richard." Richard scowled and dropped Sherlock's hand.

"It's Ritchie, actually," Sherlock rolled his eyes to which Richard gestured towards the door, "…may I have a word, Sherlock?"

With a n exaggerated sigh, Sherlock led the way out of the room shooting Molly a soft smile before he left. Ritchie turned to face Sherlock, folding his arms.

"Now…as you are aware, Molly doesn't have her father around to protect her. The responsibility falls onto me, Mr. Holmes…" Sherlock frowned as Ritchie's tone had dropped as though he was threatening Sherlock, "…I love my little sister and I will do anything to protect. I have heard of your reputation and I should warn you…if you ever hurt her, I will not rest until I have every bone in your body broken. Understand?"

Sherlock gave a sarcastic smile and nodded, his arms folded.

"Perfectly. Now if you'll excuse me…we are expecting the doctor any moment."

Sherlock pushed his way passed Ritchie and back into the room. Molly was glaring at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry…he's a little…overprotective."

Sherlock shook his head dismissively and moved over to Molly, sitting next to her and taking her hand. They hardly noticed Daphne was in the room until she cleared her throat.

"Ok…let me know if he's alright. I can't wait to meet him."

Daphne slipped out of the door as the doctor was entering and Sherlock gripped Molly's hand tighter. The doctor stopped in front of them and gave a wide smile.

"I have excellent news, Mr. Holmes, Miss Hooper." The couple could hardly contain their excitement as they watched the doctor consult his notes, "…little baby Holmes has shown substantial improvement. He opened his eyes just now and I can be sure it won't be long before he's able to breathe on his own. I believe it's about time you met him."

Sherlock swallowed and stood up, pacing slowly; this behaviour confused the doctor but Molly knew he was frightened.

"N-now?"

The doctor gave a small nod and gestured at a wheelchair standing by for Molly. Sherlock tilted his head slightly and glanced at the floor.

"I don't-"

"Sherlock…it'll be alright. You want to see your son, don't you?"

Sherlock gave a long sigh; **of course…I don't know if I can…stand to see him like that. **Before he knew it, Molly was squeezing his hand tightly as he helped her into the wheelchair. He felt conflicted; he was desperate to see his baby boy…but he was terrified. He could tell Molly was the same. The doctor led them through halls, surprisingly quiet and free from the press; Daphne had arranged a private area for the baby to be cared for, also. They reached the waiting room of the Special Care Baby Unit too soon and noticed other anxious couples visiting their sick children. The doctor stopped outside their door; there was a note on the door '_strictly private_'. The doctor tapped in the code for the door and moved inside with the nervous parents. He moved over and gently moved between the doctors, whispering for them to give them privacy. Soon, Sherlock and Molly were alone with the senior doctor who looked slightly awkward.

"As for your families…"

"It's alright, Doctor. They'll want to meet him…they can wait outside."

The doctor blinked rapidly before nodding and leaving them alone. Sherlock swallowed thickly, wringing his hands. They heard the hum of the equipment and Molly cautiously approached what could only be described as a clear tank. Sherlock could hear her gasp from his position by the door. Molly placed her hands on the glass and leaned her forehead against it.

"He's…so…tiny…so…tiny…"

Sherlock folded his arms tightly, clenching and unclenching his fists. He heard a faint, strangled chuckle from Molly.

"He's got…your hair…that's going to be…hard to manage…"

Sherlock bit his lip, inching nearer to her. He leaned over her from behind, placing his hands over hers. As soon as his eyes landed on the sleeping tiny infant, Sherlock felt a rush of love…immediately. It was true, he had a small patch of dark black hair and he was tiny, indeed. His small chest was rising and falling gently, his tiny fists balled up and he seemed unresponsive. Sherlock leaned into Molly, who pulled her head back to rest against his and he heard her sniff.

"He has your eyes." Molly gave a small laugh, unable to take her eyes off of the infant.

"No. He's asleep, you can't know-"

"Even my blue cannot penetrate your beautiful brown. I won't be able to say no to him."

Molly looked at him at this; his eyes were roaming over the baby. Molly bit her lip and kissed his cheek gently. Sherlock blinked and shook his head slightly.

"What was that for?" Molly chuckled, squeezing his hands.

"Firstly, Sherlock…I don't need a reason to kiss you, I love you." She could almost feel him rolling his eyes but she took a deep breath, "…and, I want to marry you. If you meant it…of course…"

Sherlock's breath caught in his throat and he nodded.

"Oh, I meant it." Molly also nodded and gave a wide smile, returning her gaze to her son. Sherlock titled his head. **Look at that…I have a family. **Molly's voice penetrated through his thoughts.

"What's it going to be then…Elijah or Joseph?"

Sherlock shrugged, his gaze permanently fixed to the still figure in front of them. **We'll decide later.**

* * *

Mary pulled a furious John into the waiting room, sitting him down and examining his bleeding nose. Mycroft, Greg, Daphne and Ritchie were right behind them.

"That was an incredibly stupid and honourable thing you just did." Mary had the air of a mother telling of her son and John scoffed, wiping his nose and feeling the anger still flowing through him.

"That arsehole had it coming…what made him even _think _I was giving him an exclusive?"

Mary shook her head and seated herself next to her husband. John was tapping his leg uncontrollably. After what felt like an eternity, the door at the end of the corridor opened and Sherlock appeared hastily beckoning to them, throwing a questioning look at John's bruised face. John and Mary got to their feet as well as a desperate Daphne. Sherlock and Molly's brothers insisted they'd wait…they didn't want to overcrowd. Soon, everyone had seen the newborn; Chloe and Jeannie had only briefly stayed, having felt out of place. Mycroft had almost shed a tear at the sight of his nephew whereas Ritchie actually _did _cry. Greg had congratulated them before disappearing due to feeling uncomfortable. Daphne, John and Mary had stayed the longest, looking at the baby through loving eyes. Daphne had decided to stay when John and Mary left, hand in hand.

"Mary…I want to have children." Mary's eyes widened and she looked at John; she was at a complete loss for words.

"A-after what Sherlock and Molly are going through…I thought that'd be the furthest from your mind."

John shook his head, biting into his lip and looking back down the hall at the private room. He titled his head slightly.

"You can look at it two ways…you see two people united in grief, hoping their son makes it through. Whereas, I see two parents looking down at the only thing in the world they love as much as each other."

Mary softened considerably and placed a tender kiss to his lips.

"We'll talk about it later. Let's go home…Sherlock will call if anything changes."

John mumbled 'text us' under his breath as Mary pulled him away. **He was beautiful. Perfect. I cannot wait until I have my own.**

* * *

Sherlock had excused himself from the room, leaving his mother and Molly in the room. He needed to get away, he needed air. Moving through the Hospital, Sherlock collapsed into a chair and buried his face in his hands, breathing heavily. He started to shake his head, when-

"Hello."

Frowning, Sherlock lifted his head and turned to the sound of a small voice in the seat next to him. He was a young boy, five or six and he had dazzlingly soft brown eyes and faintly curly black hair, he was clutching a small teddy bear that looked painfully familiar. Sherlock nodded slowly.

"Hello."

"Who are you?"

Sherlock blinked rapidly but smiled softly, extending his hand politely.

"Sherlock." The little boy smiled brightly and took Sherlock's hand with both of his smaller ones. The boy coughed violently and shook himself; Sherlock had been about to ask if he was alright but he beat him to it, "…cool. That's an odd name."

Sherlock gave a small chuckled before turning away again, folding his arms. He heard the boy cough several times again before the distinctive sounds of an inhaler could be heard. Sherlock nodded and muttered to himself, 'Asthma'.

"No…I've had this breathing problem. It only happens when I do running and stuff. It only got noticed last year. The doctor said it was because of how I was born."

Sherlock slowly turned to face the boy to see him tap the inhaler in frustration. **Hmmm…interesting. Most children his age would need help with that item…then there's his hearing. Almost immaculate.**

"What's your name?" The boy ignored Sherlock and continued to tap the inhaler. Sherlock shook his head and stretched out his aching legs, "where are your parents?"

The boy stopped his tapping and a sad expression crossed his face. He pointed towards the end of the corridor where a lone door stood, a private sign written across. Sherlock pursed his lips and bowed his head.

"Saying goodbye." Sherlock nodded and gently lifted his head to face the boy who simply stared at him.

"You…are a very brave little boy." The youngster nodded and smiled proudly.

"Yeah…mummy says I get that from daddy. He disagrees, though."

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and watched at the little boy started swinging his small legs, waiting for his parents. Sherlock sighed deeply and the boy looked up.

"Why are you here? Did you have a baby, too?"

Sherlock turned to the small boy, who was looking at him in interest. Sherlock titled his head, deciding not to be too honest.

"Ah, yes…yes I did." Sherlock turned away and leaned forwards, leaning his elbows on his knees. The little boy spoke again.

"Where is it?"

"He. He is upstairs…he's not very well."

Sherlock smiled softly and glanced at the ground, ignoring how his voice cracked but the boy was still watching him in confusion.

"Do you like him?" Sherlock snapped his head towards the boy, furrowing his brow at the curious child.

"Very much so, yes."

"Then, why are you down here?" Sherlock stared into the boy's brown eyes for a moment before turning away again, his voice shaky.

"It…hurts." The little boy sighed dramatically. Sherlock could have sworn he had heard that sound before.

"I know. My mummy says that's how you know you care…that you're human." Sherlock stared at the knowledgeable child and frowned, a question on his lips for the door at the end of the corridor opened and the little boy jumped to his feet.

"Goodbye Mister Sherlock. You'll be fine…I know it."

The boy bounded down the hall and joined hands with his mother, before turning and waving to him. He had left his bear on the seat and Sherlock picked it up, the soft texture seemed so familiar. Sherlock glanced at the boy's parents; the tall man had his arm around his distraught wife, her long hair tied back in a ponytail-

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock turned to face his mother; she looked furious and her hands were on her hips. Sherlock got to his feet and glanced around.

"Did you see the little boy?"

"What are you-" Sherlock hastily began searching around, much to Daphne's annoyance, "…they're feeding your son, _if you'd be so kind as to join your fiancée_."

Sherlock ignored her, rushing to the seat next to the one he had just occupied, gasping in horror.

There was no teddy bear…

* * *

_Ooh, spooky lol. Hmmm…that was a pretty terrible place to leave it but there you go :) xx Thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed that chapter ;) Stay tuned, back soon…if you're still interested of course xx_


	11. Henry & Elijah

_Hello and welcome back, everyone :) Thank you all so much for everything, the only reason this story is still here because of you! :') Ok, mixed feelings in this chapter, but I hope you won't be disappointed with where I take it…_

* * *

"Sherlock"

**No…that can't be. He was here a moment ago…and so was that teddy bear. I know I saw him. **Sherlock span around on the spot, searching hastily for the little boy and his teddy bear. There was no evidence of the little boy whatsoever.

_"Sherlock"_

**He was here. I saw him. He had a breathing problem, he was coughing. He spoke to me. **Sherlock clutched at his head as he shook himself. **Who the hell was he? I didn't imagine him I couldn't have. He was here as clear as-**

"SHERLOCK!"

Sherlock jerked, his eyes snapping open immediately. He noticed his mother standing over him, staring down at him with her hands on her hips. She looked furious.

"Ah, finally awake are you?" Sherlock blinked rapidly, not even daring to look at the seat next to him, fully aware as to what he'd find. "I just thought you'd like to know, they're-"

"Feeding my son, _if I'd be so kind as to join my fiancée. _Yes, mother…I'm on my way…"

Daphne blinked in confusion as Sherlock raced upstairs, furiously shaking his head. **Ok, it was just a dream. **Sherlock tried to still his heavily shaking form as he reached the room, pushing it open and cautiously stepping inside. Doctors bustled around the room but Molly, who had been gazing dreamily at the sleeping baby, looked around and narrowed her eyes when she noticed him.

"Are you alright? You're…white as a sheet…"

Sherlock gave a false smile and waved his hand dismissively, approaching her slowly as the doctor leaned into the tank. Molly winced as he inserted tubes and pipes into the small infant, instructing them he isn't strong enough to eat on his own yet. They were using their own formula and the tiny baby tried to squirm, finding he was too small to do so. Sherlock swallowed as he saw the little boy, wishing he could go through the pain instead.

* * *

For a long time they watched their son, smiling and supporting each other as they went through this. When John pushed the door silently open he found Molly had fallen asleep in her wheelchair, leaning against the tank and Sherlock was speaking softly to the glass of the warm tank. John stood in the doorway, listening to his friend's words to the newborn; he had been intending to return home with Mary, but just couldn't leave his friend like this.

"…then, your Uncle John and his friend were kidnapped by the same Chinese acrobats. They had mistaken him for me…" the infant gave a small sigh, "I know…morons. I'd never allow myself to get into that situation in the first place…" John rolled his eyes but found himself smiling nonetheless, "…then, they had an ancient Chinese acrobatic device they were going to kill your Uncle with. Daddy cracked the code – words in the same book owned by the same smugglers – and saved your Uncle…they still got away, though…"

Sherlock couldn't keep his voice from cracking towards the end of his sentence. The room fell silent once more and, after a moment, there was the sound of very quiet whimpering. Sherlock gave a short chuckle, followed by a sniff.

"Hang on…I'll exhaust all my stories otherwise…"

John was on the verge of tears, himself, when he approached his friend. Sherlock turned away as John neared, hiding his expression from the doctor. John, however, leaned into the tank, his voice surprisingly steady.

"Don't worry…he's got loads of them. You're going to have some interesting bedtime stories, mate."

Sherlock didn't say anything; he simply lifted his head from his arms and gazed down at his son once more. John saw the love in the detective's eyes as he spoke.

"He's perfect…John."

"He sure is."

There was a few moment of silence until Sherlock gave a loud sigh as the doors were pushed open again and Mycroft shuffled inside, looking uncharacteristically unsettled. **That's odd, it must be important. It had better be important. **John frowned as Sherlock turned to face his brother and Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Sherlock…I understand this is a bad time…but I need to talk to you. Alone."

John had been about to retaliate when Sherlock got to his feet, rolling his eyes at John before joining Mycroft in the hall. It was better to indulge his brother when he was in this mood. Sherlock folded his arms as he waited for Mycroft to speak; he had been expecting an apology but what actually came out of his mouth was far more shocking.

"Sherlock…it's about Daddy…he managed to get hold of a phone…"

Sherlock clenched his fists at the mere mention of him and Mycroft swallowed, holding out a piece of paper with a number scrawled across. Sherlock narrowed his eyes. **How could he even think I'd call him?**

"You mean you _gave_ him one." Mycroft's silence told him everything he needed to know. Sherlock gave an angry yell and buried his face in his hands. Mycroft looked petrified. "Why now? I have enough to deal with. I refuse to talk to him…I have nothing to say…are you _forgetting _what he _did _to us, Mycroft? What he did to mother? Mycroft…you have to believe me…he's a monster…I remember…I…always remember…"

Mycroft was shaking with the urge to keep the memory repressed and shook his head, causing Sherlock to curse under his breath.

"He's not well, Sherlock-"

"You got that right." Sherlock folded his arms in irritation as Mycroft continued, ignoring his brother's interruption.

"He's been…transferred…he's getting treatment, now. Just talk to him, get peace of mind. He has plenty to say to you." Sherlock scowled, pacing up and down in front of his brother.

"Did you tell him about my…" Mycroft glanced at the floor and Sherlock gave a harsh chuckle, "…of course you did…"

Mycroft was still holding the number as Sherlock debated whether or not to call. **I owe it to myself to find out what ****_he _****has to say. **Sherlock snatched the number and marched towards the Hospital's own phone, intending to end this before it even starts. He spent most of the time standing in front of the phone, looking intently at the numbers and taking deep breaths. **Just do it, he can't hurt you here. **Sherlock punched the numbers in, already feeling his anger rising; he was thankful there was hardly anyone around. The phone wasn't ringing for long when the harsh voice answered. **He'd been waiting for me.**

"Ah…Sherlock? How are you?" Sherlock's grip on the phone increased considerably and he swallowed thickly.

"Henry." Henry Holmes laughed manically, his cruel voice almost a whisper at the end of the phone.

"Now, now…son. It's because of me you are who you are today, you can at least call me Dad after all you've done to me…"

"I have never known evil like I have in you." Sherlock had practically snarled at his father who simply laughed.

"Me? Sherlock, it's because of you, I'm in here and not with my family. I want something from you." Sherlock was close to pulling the phone of the wall when his father continued. "I wanted to wish you luck with parenthood. You should be a better father than I was. Then again-"

"I'll strive to be! For one thing, I won't beat my children or attempt to rape my wife!" Henry laughed again and Sherlock felt sick. **A monster. The living description of the word.**

"Now, Sherlock…that didn't happen. You were only six and obsessed with those detective stories. You wanted one of your own. It was all in the head of a very twisted little boy. All I wanted was two normal sons…instead I got two mentally twisted and emotionally crippled boys…" Sherlock span around on the spot, shaking his head furiously. **I didn't make it up! I saw it with my own eyes.**

"No…I-I was the only one who knew. You had mother scared to death and…and Mycroft was so traumatised he…blocked the whole memory as though it never happened. Just how you wanted it…" he heard the evil man giggle softly and his fist connected with the wall sharply as he lowered his voice to a deadly hiss, "…but not me. I was six years old, yes…but because of who I am, I cannot forget. Don't you dare make the mistake of forgetting who I am. The world's most observant person…I will _never _forget what you put us through. I am only sorry it took me so long to finally get you for good…"

Sherlock could feel the blood collecting on his knuckles but he heard his father's voice drop and an icy chill ran down his back, just like it had done all those years ago. He heard his father's laugh like he had done back then. Sherlock wished he could forget, like Mycroft but it would never be that easy.

"You shouldn't lie, Sherlock…you made it up. I didn't touch your mother or Mycroft. I don't know what happened to you…but you're the damaged one. You should be in here instead of me…" Sherlock shook his head as he flexed his hand painfully, gritting his teeth.

"I'll never forget my first major case at Scotland Yard. I received the details from the delightful Inspector that aided me with _your_ eventual arrest," he heard his father grumble, "…a body of a young woman was found in an alleyway, basic observation proved death by strangulation. This…woman was a known prostitute. It didn't take me long piece the rest together." Henry's harsh mocking laughter was filling his ears again and Sherlock hated the very sound.

"I didn't kill her, Sherlock. I am wrongly imprisoned. You've always punished me. It's not _my _fault the way you turned out." Sherlock swallowed and attempted to not let the man's words affect him.

"No…no, you were a special client of hers and you _murdered _her when she threatened to expose you. You threw a psychotic, violent rage and got yourself sentenced in a psychiatric hospital. I _know_…" Henry completely lost his temper and his voice was deathly quiet.

"Sherlock…that. Is. A. Lie. You _know _I didn't kill her. My mental health is perfectly fine…you wanted to get me so badly, you didn't care how or what for. I am not evil. You've always punished me for being unlike you…_you _are the damaged one. You made all this up in your twisted little mind…"

"I…" Sherlock's mouth was hanging open as he was forced to listen to the things he had heard every single day throughout his childhood.

"I am disgusted to have a son who'd stoop so low as to _frame _their own father…your mother and brother believes in me. Not the freak…the freak who makes everyone uncomfortable. You think you'll be a better father than _me_?" Laughter…ear-splitting laughter and an anguished snarl, "someone who makes things up to get a result? At least I was there for my children, you won't stick around. You'll get _bored_. Always bored…you were. Mikey sent me a picture of your little whore too-"

"I swear to you-" Sherlock's fingers were drumming angrily against the receiver as he listened to this evil being. **I cannot believe this man is responsible for co-creating Mycroft and I. I am not like him…that happened. It did. **His father was speaking again.

"You think you deserve what you have? I'm guessing you started shagging this woman before asking her out? That's you all over…no common decency. You even knocked her up before proposing…"

"Shut up. All I ever wanted was your acceptance. Any other father would be…proud, I think, to have a son who could do what I do. Why do you…hate me?" Henry gave a loud cough before speaking threateningly to his youngest son, ignoring his pleading words and cracking voice.

"So modest…I'll get my revenge one way or another soon, Sherlock. You…your pretty whore and your bastard son…I'll get my revenge."

The phone was cut off and Sherlock slammed the phone back down, breathing heavily. He leant his back against the wall and slid down to the ground, his eyes threatening to spill the water that had gathered. **Not very well, indeed, Mycroft. I'm determined to get to the bottom of this. Why doesn't he like us?** Sherlock paid no attention to the threat, his father was in a secure hospital and he wasn't getting out.

After only a moment, he got to his feet and marched back into the room, his voice and legs shaky. John and Daphne had left Molly alone with the baby and Sherlock gently closed the door behind him; Molly was now awake, gazing down at her son. She turned to face him with a smile before a look of terror replaced it at Sherlock's wobbly state but he cut off her question.

"Elijah…you are right. That's…his name. It suits him."

Molly bit her lip. **Something bad has happened. **Sherlock approached her slowly and gently tapped the tank, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby. He had a pained expression on his face and Molly took his hand in hers, noticing his fiercely bleeding knuckles and out of place bones. Molly raised her eyes to meet his watery ones, horror etched in her expression.

"Sh-sherlock…what happened?"

Molly was shocked when he pulled her into a hug, burying himself into her neck and breathing in her scent. Molly swallowed and held him tightly, letting him pour his emotions out in the gesture. Sherlock moved away and swallowed; he needed her. So much so…he told her everything he could remember about his father. Molly listened for what felt like hours as Sherlock told her stories of, in Molly's opinion, the world's worst father. She could see the fear as Sherlock recalled the time he had been beaten for experimenting in his bedroom, constantly being called a freak for not taking an interest in sports or 'something normal' – Molly had the urge to punch Donovan in that moment. She could see the pain and emotion that he expressed when telling her of the time he finally arrested him for murder. Molly listened with a lump in her throat as Sherlock explained how a boy of six was forced to hear things he didn't fully understand and how his brother was almost mute as a teen. Daphne had been too terrified of her own husband to speak out and Mycroft had spent as much time away from home as possible, taking his little brother wherever he could. It hadn't lasted long; Mycroft had to leave for college and University. After countless, heart-wrenching stories of infidelity, abuse and deceit Molly was in tears.

"Oh, Sherlock…I am so…sorry you…had to go…through that…alone…" Sherlock shrugged and bowed his head, tapping his foot irritably. After a moment, Molly spoke again, "…I hope you don't believe him. You're not damaged. You're brilliant. No one else would have guessed all that at _six_…you don't have to worry about him now. Elijah and I…we'll look after you."

Sherlock gave a small smile and wandered over to her, placing a kiss to her forehead and squeezing her hand.

"I am so…relieved to have that off my chest finally. It felt…good to tell you. I had been concerned you'd leave if I told you sooner. Do you…still want to marry me?" Molly gave a small giggle and pulled him down to her lips in a gentle kiss.

"Of course. Nothing is going to stop me from marrying you. Not even you." Sherlock gave a wide smile and snuggled into her, giving her all of his thanks.

"I'll never treat you like that, Molly…I've never treated anyone like that…" Molly nodded against him, running her hands soothingly through his hair and whispering everything but nothing to him as he relaxed against her.

* * *

The rest of the week passed by just as slowly with Sherlock and Molly waiting by Elijah's side the entire time and visitors coming in every now and again; every time the door opened Sherlock would quickly turn to see who it was, his heart racing before he felt Molly's soothing grip on his hand. Mrs. Hudson managed to drop by at the beginning of the week, bringing with her several large teddy bears and balloons. It was the middle of the week when things finally started looking up for the couple and little Elijah. Their doctor smiled brightly as he entered; John and Daphne made hasty exits, wishing them luck as they left. As the door swung shut, the doctor moved over to the tank and gazed down with a wide smile before looking up.

"I have some wonderful news. We believe Elijah is strong enough to breathe on his own, now. He has shown immense improvement, much faster than is expected this early on," Molly was shaking with happiness and Sherlock had to sit down to stop his legs shaking, "right, shall we see?"

Sherlock had to look away as the doctor consulted the monitor and leaned into the tank. Molly took his hand as he heard Elijah make uncomfortable sounds before attempting to cry. After a moment, the doctor gave a small chuckle.

"Ah…there's a good boy. Wonderful…excuse me a moment, I'll just fetch some assistance and then you can hold your son."

"What?"

Sherlock hadn't been prepared for this. He glanced down at the tiny child again and bit his lip. **No…I can't hold him. He's too…small. I don't want to hurt him. **Molly was apparently thinking the same thing for she whimpered and gazed down at the infant.

"Sherlock, I'm-"

"Me too," Sherlock swallowed and leaned over her shoulder, gazing down just as Elijah managed to turn slowly towards them, fluttering his tiny eyelids open. Molly gasped and threw her hand to her mouth, Sherlock leaned against her softly. **Damn. **The baby simply stared at his astounded parents, waving his tiny fists as much as he could in excitement.

"I knew it…he's going to get his own way now…"

The sound of a clearing throat behind them wasn't enough to make them turn their heads so, instead, Daphne and John cautiously approached the tank. They gazed in and gasped also, their mouths hanging open. They had been informed they were allowed to hold Elijah and had wanted to be around for it. The doctors returned and happily removed the lid of the tank, carefully wrapping the baby in several blankets. He wriggled slightly and the doctor gently handed him to Molly, delighting in her excited giggle. Over her shoulder, Sherlock found himself stroking his son's soft black hair before placing a gently kiss to his skin. The baby gave a soft gurgle and Molly sniffed happily. He was light as a feather and Molly could definitely see herself and Sherlock in his features. **He's going to have my height. I hope so, I don't want him to overtake me. Oh, he's gorgeous…he's like his dad. I can tell. **Sherlock shook his head.

"No…he's like you." Molly looked into his eyes, about to ask how he did that but she realised she had been stroking Elijah's cheeks softly. After a while, Molly turned to Sherlock biting her lip.

"Your turn, Daddy…" Sherlock folded his arms across his chest tightly, shaking his head.

"Molly, I can't…I'll-"

"Sherlock…it'll be alright. I promise."

Sherlock swallowed and gently received the baby, immediately regretting refusing in the first place. **Wow, they're Molly's eyes. **Sherlock felt the little boy's eyes burning into his deep blue, mesmerised. Sherlock, too, was hypnotised by the beauty of such a small person. He held him softly, placing gentle kisses to his nose and forehead every now and again. It was ages when Sherlock finally surrendered to his mother's pleas and handed him over, hurrying to Molly's side and beaming from ear to ear.

"We're going to be alright."

Molly nodded, beaming brightly and pleased the events of last week were a horrific nightmare; it wasn't even affecting them anymore. She would always be there for him. Today had been the best day of their lives and it was only going to get better, she was sure. All that mattered now was their son's full recovery and their wonderful life together…

* * *

_I just had to end this chapter happily after the meanness I put poor Sherlock through :') I hope you liked that chapter and please let me know what you thought, always interested ;) Thank you all so much, you are the reason I keep writing so just to know you like it and are reading is the best feeling ever. xx Thank you so much :) Stay tuned, back soon xx_


	12. Fresh Starts

_Hello and welcome back everyone…if you're still reading after the horrible situation I put Sherlock in last time :s I am sorry, of course, but I promise things are finally going to return to the happy side of things :') Thank you all for sticking with me through this and I love and appreciate every single one of you… xx _

* * *

Sherlock and Molly hardly left Elijah's company now he was more alert and staying awake for longer periods of time; the new parents could often be seen bickering over who got to hold him first. John had never seen Sherlock so protective over something in all the time he had known him; he knew he was making a mental note of every time someone unfamiliar approached the baby. John himself felt a great deal of protection for the young boy and loved him completely. He was happy his friend has fought and overcome his personal demons to raise a family; John knew about Henry Holmes, alright.

Elijah, himself, was showing considerable amounts of improvement; he was now staying awake for much longer periods of time and had begun attempting to grasp things. The first time this happened, John had been attempting to take a nap in the corner of the room when Sherlock gave an excited cry effectively waking him. He reached his friend's side and noticed Elijah's loose hold on his father's finger. Molly had been overjoyed and the doctor was amazed, pleased that the baby was showing excellent signs of improvement.

The rest of the week seemed to fly by with Elijah getting stronger every day. It had been the Thursday when the doctor had approached the nervous party with news of Elijah's release date: the Sunday. John smiled as Sherlock and Molly embraced each other lovingly and he blinked in confusion when Daphne threw her arms around his neck, thanking him repeatedly; he had awkwardly patted the emotional grandmother on the shoulder, unsure as to what she was thanking him for. Following this news, Sherlock spent most of his time dashing between the Hospital and Baker Street, preparing things for bringing Elijah home.

The Sunday finally arrived to the joy of everyone close to Elijah; Sherlock and Molly couldn't wait to go home…with their son. Sherlock had been rapidly pacing in front of the Hospital cot when he noticed Mycroft hovering in the corner of the room, trying to attract his attention. Sherlock didn't need telling as to what this was about…his brother was an open book, especially when agitated in some way. Mycroft kept his voice low when Sherlock stopped in front of him.

"Sherlock, it's…Daddy. He's improving, apparently he hasn't had an incident in three days," Sherlock swallowed thickly, his fists clenching tightly but allowed Mycroft to continue "…and he wants to…apologise…" Sherlock folded his arms and bit his lip tightly as he glanced behind him; the doctor was talking to John and Molly as he carefully prepared Elijah to be taken to his new home. He shook his head, refusing to let his emotions show.

"No. I cannot do this now. Remember what happened the last time he 'apologised' to use…a black eye. He almost ripped your hand off as you tried to stop him…" Sherlock shook his head, failing to keep voice steady. Mycroft placed a supportive hand to his brother's shoulder, his eyes watering slightly.

"I am so sorry, Sherlock…I do remember. I don't want to, but I do. I always tried to stop him, Sherlock…most of the time I just wasn't fast enough…" Mycroft glanced behind him and he watched Molly cradling Elijah fondly and John tickling his chin as Daphne dabbed her eyes, "you've got yourself a good thing…" he turned back to his emotional brother, "…do not let what happened to us hold you back. It's behind us now. I thought you were brave to call him in the first place…" Sherlock nodded and glanced at the floor preparing to leave the depressing environment of the Hospital. He heard Mycroft's soft voice behind him, "…thank you, Sherlock, I've always wanted a nephew."

Sherlock swallowed thickly and gave a short nod, moving towards his new family. Molly beamed brightly at him as she settled Elijah gently into his carrier; they hadn't thought there'd be much point bringing a pushchair since they'd be taking a cab. Sherlock took the doctor's hand appreciatively and thanked him repeatedly. Even though he had seen this many times throughout his career, the chief doctor would smile with a single tear falling from his eyes every single time he watched the loving parents exit the Hospital with their new addition, followed by their excited friends and family. He would then turn around and move through the same grey halls of the Hospital and prepare to do it all again. This time was to be no different…

* * *

Specialist nurses and doctors bustled around the busy psychiatric hospital, attending to patients and guests as well as visitors and members of the public. Several of the nurses were headed for the permanent wards; it was down this long, friendly corridor patients were given around the clock care and individual accommodation, depending on their mental state. Some patients could care for themselves with minimal support where others needed full support and care. Henry Holmes was one of the patients in the permanent ward and he was required to undergo specialist care every day under the instruction of his eldest son. In his room at the end of the corridor, he folded his arms tightly across his chest, coughing violently as the nurses approached his room. **Nosy bastards, why won't they just leave me alone? **The door was pushed open and the head nurse beamed brightly at him.

"Good morning, Henry, how are you feeling today?" Henry grunted in irritation and huffed to himself. The nurse ignored this and consulted his chart with a pleasant smile.

"Well, Henry, my dear. It's been almost _four_ days since your last episode. Very good, indeed. That medicine is working a treat, isn't it? It is good to see you making such excellent progress, Henry. Now…there's a matter of ensuring it remains so, hmm?"

Henry gave a loud sigh, his eyes drooping considerably; drowsiness and loss of energy were side effects of his medication. The nurse tilted her head and blinked in confusion before tutting and clutching the chart to her chest.

"Typical, he would be right, I suppose. There are several other experimental medications your son would like you to try. He seemed very worried about you, Henry." Henry frowned as the nurse moved away.

"My *cough* son?" The nurse blinked before waving her hands dismissively.

"Yes, your son, Henry…there's nothing wrong with your memory, is there? Anyway, he came to visit the other day. Yeah, he had a little look around, asked about you and looked at your medical records…he seemed really interested, stayed for quite a while he did. He informed us of other types of practice we could use to stimulate your brain activity and keep you from getting bored. He was the one who recommended the medications…" Henry huffed and rolled over in his bed, frowning to himself.

"Nosy bastard, tell him to mind his own business. Shouldn't he be out running the country or something?" The nurse gave a shrill laugh and tapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Oh, no…it weren't Mycroft, Henry darling. I didn't know you had another son, to be honest. You never talk about him…anyway, he was proper fit…" Henry blinked in utter horror, turning to face the nurse, "…wasn't particularly polite, but…he looked like he had a load on, poor love," the nurse sighed. Henry was shaking his head in disbelief and the nurse reached the door before she smacked a hand to her head and reached into her uniform.

"…before I forget, he left you this…" the nurse handed Henry a picture of a family; a very recognisable man was leaning over the shoulder of a smaller, brown-haired woman who was holding a very tiny sleeping baby boy. The parents were smiling sadly into the camera and Henry found himself swallowing thickly. The nurse gave a dreamy sigh, "…aww. What a good-looking family, your son's got there, Henry. Beautiful little boy, that one. Is that your grandson, Henry?"

Henry nodded, emotions rushing to him for the first time in years, "y-yes…"

The nurse cooed for several seconds before patting Henry on the shoulder and leaving the room respectfully, failing to hear Henry's faint sniffing. He raised a shaky hand to the picture and ran his fingers over his son's image. **Is that…Sherlock? He's changed a lot in ten years. Those are the same eyes, though…I'd know them anywhere. **Henry peered closer and his heart almost stopped as he noticed something in his son's eyes, something that had been absent most of his life. **Love.**

* * *

Mrs. Hudson opened the door to 221B with a pleased grin on her face, bending down to peer into the carrier at the sleeping infant.

"Aww…he's a cutie, alright. Going to keep me awake all night, are you?" Molly gave a nervous chuckle as she stepped over the threshold, Sherlock close behind with Elijah.

"Yeah…sorry about that, Mrs. Hudson…we could always-"

"Don't be silly, dear. It'll be a nice change, I'm just glad he's home. If there's anything you two need, don't hesitate to call…" Sherlock smiled gratefully and Mrs. Hudson nodded before bustling away. Molly beamed at her fiancée before glancing at their son proudly.

"We're home."

"Yes we are…and we're here to stay, you understand?" He was speaking softly to the tiny bundle in the carrier and Molly giggled quietly, muttering under her breath.

"He's going to be fine, now…he's got you as a father."

Sherlock gave a thoughtful frown as they moved upstairs to the flat. Molly smiled widely as they stopped in the living room and glanced around. They never before realised how empty the flat had been until now. **Finally, we're complete. **After a while, Molly realised Sherlock hadn't said anything. She frowned and noticed he seemed to be deep in thought until he turned to her, remaining straight-faced as ever.

"Yes…I suppose so. I will do everything I can to be a good father to my son," Molly titled her head but let him continue, "…but the only reason I am still functioning is because of you," Molly blinked rapidly at the sheer honesty and calm in Sherlock's voice, "…there were times when I couldn't…get through this. You were there for me and Elijah when I failed. I was afraid. I _am _afraid but I know I am not alone. No longer am I alone. You saved me…both of you. He may have me as a father…but he will be invincible with a mother like you."

Without another word, Sherlock moved into the spare bedroom and closed the door softly. Molly stood in shocked silence for a moment. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Sherlock Holmes saying these words to her and even when she was engaged to him it was still magical to hear how he truly felt about her. Molly took a deep breath and followed him quietly into the spare room, carefully pushing the door open to see him fiddling with the baby monitor. She swallowed thickly as Sherlock carefully picked up Elijah and settled him into the cot, placing a tender kiss to the baby's forehead. Molly shook her head gently as Sherlock grinned at the little boy, leaning against the cot to watch him. He became aware of her soon and had pulled her inside, wordlessly hugging her tightly.

"Sherlock…there's something I wanted to ask you." He frowned and released her carefully, swallowing as her gaze flitted from him to Elijah and back again. Molly took a deep breath. "I want…I mean, can we…get married?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"We will…soon. Weddings take time to plan, unfortunately." Sherlock looked as though he hated the sound of this and Molly shook her head, fiddling with her hands.

"No, I mean now…" Sherlock blinked rapidly and his mouth dropped open slowly as Molly continued, "…I don't _want _a big fancy wedding with a bunch of people I don't even know there. I don't want to spend loads of money on one day when we could be saving it for Elijah's future. I want you as my husband as soon as possible…I cannot," Molly swallowed her sob and Sherlock took her hands gently, "I can't spend another second not being your wife, Sherlock Holmes…"

Molly was soon sobbing into his shoulder and he felt immediately overwhelmed. He was quite surprised Molly didn't want a big wedding with flowers and decorations and lots of guests. He took a deep breath and shook his head, stepping away.

"No. You deserve a huge wedding, no matter what I think. I want to give you the best day of your life…"

"Then, make this the best day of my life. Today."

Sherlock swallowed and kissed her forehead gently before biting into his lip and rushing from the room. Molly gave a defeated sigh and turned to gaze dreamily at Elijah. Sherlock returned almost immediately, his hands behind his back. He nervously approached and presented a velvety box to her, removing the gorgeous glittering ring and sliding it onto her outstretched hand. Molly gasped in shock when she saw it was _not _an engagement ring. Her watery eyes met his cool blue stare and he released a deep breath, a wide smile on his face.

"I cannot say no to those eyes."

* * *

Henry smiled at the photo of Sherlock's new family as he settled into his bed, shaking his head thoughtfully.

"Oh, Henry, love. I'm sorry to disturb you, dear, but it's time for your medication." The nurse smiled nervously as she moved into the room but Henry accepted the pills without another word.

"Thank you." The nurse nodded gratefully before smiling widely as he took them without hesitation.

"Well, I must say…it's nice to see you adopting a positive attitude for a change. You're making excellent progress with these stronger meds. Your son was right…" the nurse shrugged and walked away, closing the door softly behind her after a wave goodnight which Henry returned joyfully. He nodded and muttered softly to himself.

"He was *cough* after all…"

Henry glanced towards the door quickly before removing his phone from his pillowcase; he was now grateful to Mycroft for saving his youngest son's number to the device. With shaky hands, Henry tapped in a message.

_Thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve a son as good as you. I don't deserve a son as good as you. I have never been happier to be so wrong about another person, Sherlock. You are amazing…you give me this when I have been nothing but awful to you throughout your entire life. I am sorry. It is not enough, I know…it will never be enough. I cannot make up for years of abuse with three words but I just want you to know. I am proud of you and what you can do. Look after that little one…he is perfect. Good luck, my son. HH_

Feeling the sting of tears fill his eyes, Henry shook his head forcefully before deleting the message and tucking his phone away again. **No. Enough, leave him alone. It's over. Don't hurt him anymore. **Henry gave a deep sigh, pressing a kiss to the photograph and settling against the pillows, permitting calming and relaxing sleep to overcome him. No longer would the monstrous dreams of his past haunt him, the tortured faces of his boys were now twisted into happiness and love as they had their own lives now. He couldn't hurt them anymore and Henry was pleased they were without him in their lives. He allowed the tears to fall as he realised he missed them, nonetheless.

* * *

John jumped out of bed that morning, yawning as he made his way into the kitchen. Mary was already sat down and examining her phone; they both hadn't heard from their friends since they left the hospital yesterday. John bit his lip, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Well…they probably want their space. I mean, it's the first day they're at home with their son. The last thing on their mind would be texting us."

Mary swallowed and nodded when she realised he was right. She gave a dramatic sigh before getting to her feet and moving into the bedroom to get dressed. After a moment, John followed her and he titled his head.

"We're going to see them, aren't we?" Mary nodded enthusiastically, her head buried in the wardrobe.

"Of course, we'll claim it's for Elijah. You are a doctor, after all." John bit his lip.

"Sherlock won't believe it…but he won't argue."

John and Mary dressed hurriedly, grabbing their keys hastily as they left their home. They hailed a cab and settled anxiously down for the short ride. John shook his head, trying to calm the excitement he felt over seeing his godson in his rightful place. He felt Mary grasp his hand tightly and squeeze it supportively. Soon, they were standing outside the familiar door of 221B Baker Street. Mary swallowed and nudged her husband in the ribs.

"You knock…you used to live here."

"Oh, for goodness sake. We're not unwelcome…they just probably want privacy that's all…" John stopped when he heard a timid voice call from inside.

"Look…I've told you, I don't know where Sherlock is. He's not here, so please…leave me alone or I'll call the police…" John gaped in horror before knocking again, speaking in a soothing tone.

"Mrs. Hudson? It's John and Mary…are you alright?"

He heard her faintly gasp and pull apart the locks; it took her a considerable amount of time to get the door open and John concluded she was shaking. Sure enough, when the door was opened Mrs. Hudson was nervously shaking and ushering them inside.

"I'm sorry, dear. I thought you were the press…they've been outside all day. They've been so desperate for a scoop they'd threatened to break the door down…"

Mary ushered Mrs. Hudson into the kitchen to make her a coffee and mouthed to John she'd be up shortly. John glanced up the stairs before taking a deep breath and tiptoeing forwards. He reached the top and frowned when he heard nothing inside; he pressed his ear against the wood and could faintly make out giggling. Confused, John gently pushed the door open and saw nothing in the living room. **Hmmm…the must be in Elijah's room. **John closed the door and moved into the kitchen, stopping dead at the sight that greeted him. Sherlock was standing in front of Molly with his hands trapping her against the counter, their shirts crumpled at their feet. John's cheeks grew red as he noticed they were breathing heavily, their faces flushed and smirks on their faces; the microwave door was open and next to it was a bowl of chocolate. He cleared his throat and the couple turned to face him, one of the two turning bright red at the state they had been found in. Sherlock sighed as he reached for their shirts, tossing Molly hers. John noticed, with immense discomfort, they were covered in the sweet tasting chocolate; it was smeared across their lips, faces, fingers and torsos. After a moment, John placed his hands on his hips.

"Hmmm…where's-"

"Sleeping. He was awake all night and now he's asleep. We have fed and changed him already. We do _know _what we are doing, John…"

John rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before he noticed his friends couldn't seem to stop smiling, occasionally touching the other and giggling. John had been about to ask what it was until Mary wandered into the room.

"There you are, I'd…oh." Mary noticed their condition also and soon gripped John's arm, pulling him out of the room, "…we, um…only came to see how you are…and you're clearly fine, so we'll just…leave…"

"No, wait…we have something to tell you."

Mary stopped dead and John almost collided into her. Molly entwined her hand into Sherlock's and he lifted them to show their dumbstruck friends. John and Mary's eyes simultaneously widened and their mouths fell open as Sherlock grinned.

"We're married."

Sherlock and Molly met each other's eyes and smiled widely whilst John and Mary simply gaped at them. After a moment, John shook his head and a smiled spread across his face. He opened his mouth but Mary beat him to it, her voice shocked beyond belief.

"I'm sorry…WHAT?"

Sherlock and Molly exchanged confused glances before Elijah's soft whimpering could be heard in the silence. Sherlock sighed irritably at Mary before hurrying away to settle him. Molly opened and closed her mouth for several moments, unsure as to why Mary was behaving like this. Mary frowned dramatically.

"What…what about your big, white wedding…what about your lovely dress. Molly, your dream location. Your bloody _friends_…does that mean nothing to you?" Molly frowned lowering her voice slightly.

"No. I wanted to tell you, but we were in a rush. The registry office only had one available slot for us and Mycroft secured everything for us. I didn't _need _all of that other stuff…" Sherlock returned from Elijah's room less than empty handed. He cradled the tiny child against him, humming softly and Molly turned to Mary, her expression stern "…I had my boys with me."

Mary smiled softly and folded her arms in defeat as John dabbed at his eyes. Things were finally looking up and John could see Elijah Holmes was probably already the luckiest child in the world…

* * *

_:') I really enjoyed writing that chapter, it feels so good writing happy chapters again. Ok, this is only the end if you want it to be…I'll happily continue for as long as you wish ;) xx Thank you so much for reading and all of your reviews are lovely :) Stay tuned, back soon xx_


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